remember Libby

Tony just took the boys out to go shopping for my birthday which is tomorrow. He doesn’t even bother asking what do I want.. we both know you cant buy the one thing I want.

The moment I heard the garage door close I came to her room. .. I hear the sounds of the ocean in here. We never have been able to turn off the sound machine we had playing for her..

Today is so hard.. today I miss her so damn much. I feel so angry. I feel so alone.

I just want to lay in her bed.. I want to find something in this house that smells like her. That feels like her. I can’t though .. there is nothing.. there really was nothing.. lice a few weeks before she went on hospice meant everything was washed.. uncontrollable vomiting means it all got washed again..

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it doesn’t seem real. this cant be my baby.. this cannot be happening.. please please please…

I look at her picture.. her smiling face.. her big brown eyes. She is my daughter. She is dead. oh god oh god oh god. I cant breath right. I cant see through the onslaught of misery pouring down my face..

I can’t do this. I don’t want to do this.

I try to find the words to describe this.. I can’t. Sometimes I wonder if I should just set up a camera and talk to it..

the rocking.. the crying.. the pulling.. the noises.. grunts and moans that escape..

no words to explain..

its physical.. its palpable.. I can feel it in my chest.. this pulling.. breaking.. heaviness.

Another 12th is looming.. Tony will be at work. I think maybe I resent him for that. That’s not fair. But I want him here with me. I want to drive to the beach together.. and just be allowed to fall apart for a whole entire day.

I feel like I am being pulled into a drain.. a dark and scary hole. . that is simultaneously terrifying and so familiar.

I rock .. I grab my own hair. I hug myself. ..

i pause

I look around her room. desperately looking for something though I am not exactly sure what. A way to connect.. to find her.. to make my escape…

its hurts so bad. I curl into myself.. my knees want to pull to my chest.. and head dropping towards my knees.

I don’t think it ever gets better. I think a piece of me will be suffering like this every day for the rest of my life.

Tomorrow one year older.. something to celebrate.. one year closer to dying. Tony went out with friends last night. While he was gone I talked to her for awhile… then watched some mindless reality tv to try to quiet my mind .. to find my sleep. The woman said she was scared of getting older and I laughed.. a literal LOL moment. Because I look forward to it.

I think I will forever be broken like this.. just get much better at hiding it. Pushing it down. but never healing.. no real respite from this despair.. until I get a respite from this life.

I want a rewind or fast forward button. .

and I taste the guilt in those words.. the irony of it all. That I am missing these glory years with my left behind babies.. These times that I truly did appreciate. Those that have known me before becoming the mom of love4jlk know that it is true. I am now  missing this period of their lives that so many older people describe by sharing “enjoy it.. it goes by so fast”

only if you are lucky.

“They grow up so fast.”

only if you are lucky.

My new reply.. today it takes on new meanings. I don’t want to miss this time with them.. I don’t want them to be grown up.. but I have to.. only through the passage of that time will I get to go to her again.

I am emptied. I am drained. I feel so weak right now.

depleted. defeated. completely void of the onslaught of emotions that were just consuming me.

I look through my pictures .. and I see the ones at the top of my “last 12 months” section…

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this memory.. this moment in time of my girls will soon only be in the “photos” section.. Its like our time is being slowly pulled away.. erased.. pushed aside.

I stare at her picture on the desk that Santa brought her last year.. her last healthy Christmas. . I stare at it and I try to remember holding her. My arms tingle with it.. I try to not breath too loud.. maybe I can will her out of that picture.. or will me into it ..

she existed. she lived. she died.

I say that for me. I cant explain it.. but most of the time I walking in a fog that doesn’t allow penetration of those words.. humiliatingly it also blocks out the reality of her…makes my mind disconnect from it being her . Like she seems like a dream or a fantasy…

because the impact of her being real is so destructive I cannot allow it in..

I cry most night missing her, that is always the truth. I never sensationalize through my words. But somehow it still doesn’t permeate to my depths.

but now.. I am alone in her room.

Jennifer. she existed. she lived. she died.

my daughter. my first born. she existed. she lived. she died.

remember Libby..

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40 Responses to “remember Libby”

  1. My heart breaks for you. She lived. She existed. She died. I wish that last part weren’t true. I wish there was something that can be done to fix this. But since there is not, all I can do is hold your family up in prayer and do what little I can to raise awareness and money, so that maybe one day this won’t happen anymore.

  2. Like so many others you and Jennifer have touched through your words and at her celebration of life, I am still here. With them all, I am still aching for you. Even though we have never met, I still want to help you in any way I can. If that means as little as driving across town to pick you up and take you to the beach while you cry all the way there and back, this stranger would do that for you. You could tell me your stories of Jennifer over and over again and I would never get tired of hearing them. Please keep telling me (us) about her and everything you are feeling until you no longer feel so overwhelmingly heartbroken…even if that time never comes–I will keep listening to you and will always want to help.

  3. I”m so sorry , so very sorry, there is not one day I don’t think about you and your family and beautiful Jennifer, my heart is so broken , I sometimes go in my backyard at night and just sit and think about you and worry about you and knowing you our so close (Gilroy) I just want to run to you , run fast and make it all better , i’m so sorry I can’t, I’m truly sorry…
    I here always sweetheart always …

  4. Libby: I read every time and always will. Most of the time, I don’t know what to say. But just wanted you to know we’re all here with you.

  5. Just tears as I read. As I always read. With tear-stained cheeks that hurt for you and the world and a future unknown. Tear drops the glisten like glitter and my daughter asks, “Are you reading about Jennifer?” Yes, baby, I am.

  6. Libby, I was thinking of you and Jennifer today while I was doing my triathlon. And a quote from the movie Aristocats came to me, and it made me inspired to finish my tri, but also made me think of you and her even more. Its “Ladies do not start fights, but we can finish them”. We will finish her fight for her, Libby. One thought, one step, one rummage sale, one cure at a time. Hugs to you on your birthday without your girl.

  7. Im so sorry Libby. I wish I it was all a dream. She DID exist and she will NEVER be forgotten. She will be remembered forever and ALWAYS. We love you all. ♡♡♡♡♡♡

  8. Reading. Loving. Praying. Wishing none of this was true, but so grateful to for the impact you have made in my life through your blog.

  9. She did exist, and she lived such a happy life, with mOre joy than some ever feel, and that in large part is because of YOU LIBBY! I HaTe to even write the next part -because I wish so bad it never happened, but she died, and we will never let her memory die, and we will all stand by you and fight so that one day NO ONE EVER HAS TO FEEL LIKE YOU DO RIGHT NOW!
    I WISH I KNEW WHO TO TAKE THIS Raging ANGER THAT I feel out on, but I will start with turning my anger into relentless energy to fight a war against pediatric cancer ,and I WILL WIN ONE STEP AT A TIME! I’m so sorry, Libby. My heart breaks for you!

  10. There are no words to comfort you I know… I pray for comfort for you everyday.. My heart is truly broken I try to imagine and I literally stop breathing.. I look at my daughter and I feel this tightness.. So no I won’t even try to make it better because I know that I can’t be but Libby always know your precious girl still exists in our love in your love everyday every moment …. She will never be forgotten not only by us or you but by you children who just adored her so much! I wish I was there to hug you I wish I had met your precious gorgeous angel …. I hate cancer!

  11. I will remember to. I’m reading and aching for you. I know you will heal, but pain will always be there. My best friend died when he was 17. I ran into his parents last night after many years. I told the dad I had his son’s picture up still, in George’s room, since George’s middle name is on his honor. As I told him, I saw pain cross his eyes, 27 years after he died. Sending love to you. I hope it helped him to know I still think of his son daily, even if I triggered pain as well.

  12. don’t ever doubt that we won’t forget her. Us, the readers, the people on the other side of your blog…most of us are not related to you, or know you or your family well…but we (I) have been irrevocably changed by Jennifer having lived. Her sweet spirit and spunkiness comes across in your posts, and we all feel like we knew her. We all mourn with you, Libby. So, so much.

  13. I will always remember. This breaks my heart into a million pieces. I am so very sorry. I am sending love from a stranger across the country. Please except it as a promise to “remember Jennifer” forever.

  14. Libby, I cry for you, I ache for you. I think of Jennifer every day. I see her in my girls, especially my littlest, my 4 year old. I am listening, I am reading, I am praying. Always. Huge hugs and much love from a faraway stranger who hopes to someday be a friend. ❤️

  15. Such an unfair loss of a beautiful daughter, sister, friend….prayers and more prayers for your entire family. I will be thinking of you on your birthday and hope you have a sign from your angel.

  16. Beautiful
    Remember Libby

    SHE LOVES YOU
    Yesterday.. Today… Always
    YOU ARE SO LOVED
    Aways.. Always..Always…

    thanks 4 Sharing …

  17. A post like this makes me rip my own heart out of my chest and stare at it, pulsing and dripping. I cannot STAND that this happened to you and I don’t know what to do with my rage and sorrow.

  18. Nothing but tears reading this. Still here reading, sending nothing but love.

    You are amazing Libby, truly amazing. You are an incredible spirit. Thank you for continuing to share this utterly painful journey.

  19. I have written to you before. My “little” girl just graduated from junior high. She was only four when her older brother, Sam, died from Ewing’s Sarcoma. So many moms came up to me at graduation expressing how sad they were that the kids were growing up so fast. “I just don’t want to see them grow up.” I finally said to one of them, “This is not sad to me at all. It is much worse NOT getting to see them grow up. I”ll take this any day!” The pain is unbearable and indescribable but you are doing it justice. I will pray for you.

  20. Always here,reading and absorbing your words. We are on different paths, but every word you write makes me see. Sending prayers and hugs <3

  21. I never know what to say. I think of you and your family every day. Prayers to your family Lib. I’m so sorry for all you have to endure.

  22. Jennifer is everywhere,you have spread her spirit to us all. She is loved, you are loved. This morning on my way to work, I heard a song and I instantly thought of your family. We are strangers in person, but online I know you so well. Jennifer’s love and spirit overtook me, I cried for her, I remembered her, she lived,she existed, she is loved!
    Hang in there Libby you are amazing, strong and a wonderful mother! Always in my heart, prayers and thought! xoxoxooxoxoxooxoxoxooxoo

  23. I have never posted because there are no words to express the a proper response to the emotions you share. But tonight I had a moment I would like to share with you. Tonight I put my eldest to bed. I held her close and thought of Jennifer. I thought of how you would give the world to hold her again and I sent my love to you at that moment. Then my 2yr old took her blanket out of her mouth and said “crying for Jen.” I asked her to repeat and she said, “she’s crying for Jen, she needs a bandaid.” She was probably thinking of something from her day, but I like to think she could feel your love and need for your daughter at that moment. Much Love for Libby and JLK.

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