On Community & Grieving

This community is amazing. In times of hardship it pulls together and transforms into a neighborhood. A neighborhood of supportive friends who offer compassion, prayers, help and random acts of kindness at the drop of a hat, without blinking an eye and in the midst of their own struggles and commitments. I have witnessed it on numerous occasions and recently experienced it firsthand. My family has been the recipient of this support network the past couple of months and for that we would like to express our sincere thanks and appreciation. The cards and messages of sympathy, flowers/plants, prayers and acts of kindness continue to be a great comfort to us. We are truly blessed to have so many wonderful friends and to live in such an amazing community.

For reasons unknown to us, our small community is taking a hard hit lately. There has been too much loss, far too soon; far too many new members of these "clubs" nobody asks to join. An article was recently shared with me that spoke about how to support grieving parents. I, unfortunately, am also a member of that club. The article hit the nail on the head, but I've also decided that it equally applies to grieving spouses, brothers, sisters, aunts, uncles...grieving FAMILY & FRIENDS. So I wanted to share some highlights with our neighborhood. My hope is that this offers a bit of insight and  reassurance that we are not walking this path alone.

*Remember Them - We want the world to remember our loved one, young or old. Share memories with us and help us relive them. We are always seeking the balance between holding onto our grief and a happy life after our loss. Milestone celebrations (birthdays, graduations, weddings, etc) hit us hard. Please don't walk away.

* We Can't be "Fixed" - There is no roadmap to grief. Each of us has to find a way to live with loss and it is an individual process. We welcome your love and support but please don't tell us that "time heals all wounds." We feel broken and that doesn't just go away. Please be patient with us as we find our new way and please know that when we know what we need, or what you can do for us, we will surely let you know.

* We Need Time Outs - Our family's milestone celebrations are especially hard. No matter how many years go by, the longing for a complete family unit intensifies in the days leading up to these events and explodes on the day of the event. Please give us time to process another year marked by their absence. And then help us remember them.

* Happiness is an Everyday Struggle - We fight to find the balance of missing and grieving for our loved ones and living life in a way that honors them. We want to be happy, but our loss is constantly hovering at the surface of other emotions.

* It's Uncomfortable - Our loss will make you uncomfortable. You will be afraid that you'll make us lose it by remembering that our loved one is gone. Trust me...we know and haven't forgotten. So please speak their name, tell us you're thinking about them, share a story. Tears of remembrance and loving support are far better than tears from unspoken words. And if you can't say anything, then just be there so we know we are supported and cared about.

We grieve because we loved. We are lucky to have had something that makes saying goodbye so incredibly hard. "Grief changes us. The pain sculpts us into someone who understands more deeply, hurts more often, appreciates more quickly, cries more easily, hopes more desperately and loves more openly" (unknown).

http://www.mindbodygreen.com/0-17928/what-i-wish-more-people-understood-about-losing-a-child.html

My Daddy Left Me

Scenario: Bath time last night. Happily playing and "swimming."  Then out of nowhere Laura starts crying big alligator tears.

Me: What's wrong?

L: I want my Daddy!

Me:  I know, sweetie, I want your Daddy too. But he's in Heaven, remember? And we have him in our hearts and can see him in pictures and in our dreams.

L: I want my Daddy HERE!

Me: I know...me, too.  It makes me mad and sad that Daddy isn't here.

L: My Daddy left me.

Me:  He didn't mean to, sweetheart. It was an accident. fighting my own tears

L: I love my Daddy.

Me:  And he loves you, too.  And Clara loves you and Mommy loves you.

L: I love Mommy. giggles

And then we played a round of "I love you more"

Two Months

Two months ago my world as I've known it for the last 10.5 years came to a screeching halt and fell apart. It's already been two months since you died and I...well, I'm still in disbelief. And these last few days I hurt again like the reality is fresh.

I went to the Garth Brooks concert last weekend and I learned/realized two things; 1) I'm a bigger Garth fan than I thought I was and even more so after the show and 2) he sings a lot about losing love. Admission: I cried during the concert with 20,000+ other people surrounding me. Songs like:
"If Tomorrow Never Comes", "Rodeo", "The River", "Unanswered Prayers", "The Dance"\ Throw in Trisha Yearwood with "How Do I Live"...you could say that their setlist touched me. They all made me think of you and miss you. And cry.

And the crying continued today. More songs on the radio, no matter what channel I switched to, that reminded me of you and us. The number on the calendar (23), Laura's longing for you. It was just one of those days where every time I turned around I was crying. (and here I go again).

I stopped at one of your buddies' house after work because I needed somewhere to go without analyzing eyes before I picked up the girls from daycare. We had a good talk about you...missing you, still catching ourselves not realizing you're gone, trying to fill this huge hole that's been left in all our lives. And of course I cried some more but I guess I needed that release. It's amazing what 15 minutes of friendship, hugs and tears can do for an attitude. The girls and I had a good night. And as we were getting ready for bed, another of your buddies called to check in. They're taking care of us, you know...your/our network of friends is undeniably one of the anchors in my life right now. I don't know where I would be without them.

But that doesn't stop us from wishing we could turn back time and have you here with us again. Laura and I have been talking about needing you and a big ol' Daddy hug. God how I miss those hugs. I tell her that I love her and you love her and that you'll hug her in her dreams....so please, come give us a big ol' Daddy hug in our dreams tonight. Our broken hearts sure could use it.

Re-Organizing

<sigh>  5 days until the 2 month mark. I can't believe that it's been that long. Laura is still questioning and begging for her Daddy. I'm still muddling through a day at a time. Life goes on whether that's my preference or not.

So I'm beginning to re-organize one small, itsy-bitsy baby step at a time. As in...I moved your bathroom stuff off the counter and put it under the sink. Most of it...I threw away your water pic and electric razor (that you never used anyway) after fighting my head over it for a solid hour. The bathroom looks so...girly and bare now. I don't like it. I washed your thermos and put it under the kitchen sink. I moved your wear-once-a-year coats off the coat rack and put them in the coat closet.

I'm also re-organizing my language. Do you have any idea how hard it is not to say us, ours, we? Now it's I, me and mine. And I have to make a conscious effort because being "us" is still so natural. And not having an "us" still kills me a little bit every day. And people just don't understand. My boss was asking today how all the paperwork is going (answer: it's not) and in the course of our discussion commented "well you can't mourn forever...you need to get out & do things." It wasn't her intention to sound rude...but it caught me off guard. I WILL mourn forever but, as I promised you when we lost Will, I will not let myself sink so low that I can't pull it back together.

So yeah...I'm starting to re-organize. But your coats and shoes are still by the door, clean work clothes still hanging in random spots in our bedroom, lunchbox still on top of the fridge. Because I'm also still mourning...and I don't see that changing in this lifetime.

Everything's Going to Work Out

I seem to be having a rough spell these last few days. Missing you like crazy, resentful of those who still have their husbands and best friends, pissed off that our girls are going to grow up without you. The tears are flowing freely again at the drop of a hat. My heart physically hurts. I'm overwhelmed trying to keep up with the day-to-day chores at home, trying to make sure the girls are ok and that I'm there for them, And I have very little patience for their meltdowns and then my heart breaks all over again. I've always described myself as a decision-maker and leader but it's become very apparent to me that I'm not. I haven't made a decision on my own for nearly 11 years...you were always my sounding board, the voice of reason and the spontaneity. Everything rests on my shoulders now...doctor/no doctor...give in to the bedtime battle/make her cry it out...stupid decisions, big decisions...they are all my responsibility.

I was up with Laura (again) at 4:30 this morning...20 minutes before my alarm was set to go off and I was annoyed. I must have drifted off but woke at 5:15. You came to me. I could feel your firm kiss..the whiskers around your mouth. I could smell you. As you walked away from the recliner, you moved to stand by the island in the kitchen. And you said, "Everything's going to work out." I asked you if you really thought I could do this and you just smiled...and I woke up with a sense of calm that I haven't felt in 6.5 weeks.

The calm didn't last long since I cried most of the way to work and off and on throughout the day. But I so desperately needed to feel your presence. So please come back to me...if only in my dreams.

Daddy's Here!

It was last Friday morning. Laura had a GREAT night and nearly slept through the night....albeit in the recliner but at least she slept! I was watching her sleep as I was picking up the living room and saw her smile and giggle a little bit. Warmed my heart. When I woke her up at 6:20 to get ready for daycare, she sat straight up and with wide bright eyes exclaimed, "DADDY'S HERE!"  Broke my heart.

She looked everywhere from the recliner...insisting that you were there. I tried to ask if you had visited her in her dreams...what you were doing and what you said. But she doesn't understand "dreams" yet. She just knew that you were there. I asked her where you went and she pointed to our bedroom and said "Daddy go in there." And she was adamant.

I have to believe that you came to see her, that you were there with us that morning. She NEEDED that. I needed that. Because we miss you terribly...more than words could ever describe. There is this big empty hole in our lives where you should be. And we're feeling it more and more everyday.

She Sang

Laura is a smart little cookie. She keeps telling me (and everyone that will listen) "My Daddy fishin' in heaven. Mommy stay here with me."  I told her that once. Two weeks ago.

And she misses you. And she wants you. She's becoming more and more vocal about her feelings. And all I can do is reaffirm them and reassure her that I want and miss you, too. Because what else can I do?

The other night she wanted you to sing with her. You used to sing songs with her when you put her to bed. ABCs, Twinkle Twinkle, Itsy Bitsy. And she craved that the other night. I told her Mommy would sing with her...she told me no. I told her that you could hear her in Heaven so she could sing you a song. "No Mommy. WITH Daddy." She dropped it then, and so did I.

But tonight...she asked if she could sing Daddy ABCD's. I told her absolutely. And with quiet tears streaming down my face I listened to our little girl sing her little heart out...ABC's to Daddy in Heaven.