Memories are all I have left.. Its what us bereaved parents cling to.
but when they hit unexpectedly it can be devastating. I feel like I have been hit over and over again today, and I feel so weak. I rarely leave the house to run errands anymore. Her memory seems to haunt me everywhere I go. I actually wouldn’t mind it so much if it was just me .. I have no problem crying in public.. But it just isn’t fair for my kids. ..especially on days like today when the tears were fairly constant.
Turning on the car.. I hear the song we walked her down the aisle to.. The only time we will have that privilege.
Even just driving in the parking lots for the grocery stores got to me today. I still haven’t been able to go into a grocery store since she died.. Today being near them had me in tears .. and leaving the parking lot.. facing directly towards the place she will be buried..
I went to the drugstore to pick up a prescription. I remembered being there the last time .. with all 4 of my babies.. She was in her wheelchair. I looked around and I could almost physically remember her being there.. Like I was trying to will her back into being by staring hard enough down the toy aisle.
We went to the sporting goods store .. when we walked past the baseball stuff I felt like I was being sat on.. my whole body felt so heavy.. so weighted down. I remembered buying her tee ball pants. How cute she looked in them. So tiny we had to roll even the smallest size up in the waist. How she wanted the ones with a little design on the waist band.. and a pink helmet. I wanted to get black so her brothers could use the same one in following years. .. But she looked so cute in the pink one I went for it.
Thankful today.. for those times I turned a “no into a yes” (read about that here )without realizing the lasting gravity those insignificant moments would hold.
And then I was exhausted by it all.. broken down by the grief struggling to escape. At home I got the kids lunch and snuck away into her room.. to fall on her bed and sob.. and talk to her.. .. and pray .. Just for a minute. And I escaped to write this.. to find freedom in my words.
******* Picking back up long after their bedtime *****
For her birthday she got a card with a musical bracelet.. the boys found it and were playing it.. I was transported back immediately.. To a time when I still had hope.. When I believed a miracle just might happen .. The lyrics end with..’all you have to do is believe the impossible’… How I ached for that to be true as she would play it over .. and over again..
fuck you bracelet
And Charlottes baby toy. A friend brought it over …either right before she went on hospice or while she was on hospice. It was like the background music to our lives over those 2 weeks. When I hear it now.. it freezes up parts of me..Remembering how horrible that time was.. but how much better it was than the present is most of the time.
And I struggle with that.
How horribly selfish I am for wanting that time with her suffering back to relieve my own suffering now.
I even dread memories that were never made..
My family is all going away for a massive family trip. Planned before we even knew she had cancer.. that feels like forever ago but its still 3 months til the one year of diagnosis. For our cabin her name is still listed with us.. The other day talking about the trip with my sister she mentioned horseback riding and it felt like somebody had taken a a tire iron to my knees. ..
I was so excited to take her… you had to be 7 to go.. but I was all set to lie. She would nearly be 7 anyways. ..
Now -forever 6-
I had forgotten about that.. and have been struggling to shake that … broken at the knees feeling ever since . Tony is going up early to golf so we tried to pack some tonight. Packing for just 5 of us.. tire iron moving upward.. her absence pounding me in the stomach. realizing I have no idea whats even going on for the trip.. because I don’t need to be as prepared as I used to be as parent to a kid that had to eat gluten free.
And trying to figure out how to physically bring her with us.. and emotionally how to remember her.
Reading the kids Llama Llama misses mama tonight it struck me. A piece of my fear. This Llama goes to the first day of school… He misses his mama .. but he learns that mama always comes back.
What if she misses me like that? What if she is just waiting for me to come for her.. like I always promised her I would?
What if she isn’t?
What if it’s just me … reading a children’s book to my living 3….crying because I am the one waiting for her to come back?
Until there is a cure