Words have power they have meaning. They can bring me to the depths of my pain. Thats good. But they can also help me .. and my kids.. find new ways to bring us above it.
I spoke with another bereaved Dad. One who focuses on bringing the joy to kids with cancer. He shared something .. shared words with me that settled in.
I will never change up completely the things I write to get out the gunk – the pain.. the genuine horror I live with daily. Because if I don’t it will take root in me. Take over me no matter how I try to keep it at bay. That is who I am.
But I also can find ways to concentrate on the other portion when I speak in a loving way about my daughter .. in particular to my surviving children and the kids that love her. To help us all get to another level .. One that has more comfort than pain.
I can’t say how long it will take us. Or if we can ever get to that place that seems so far off.. so truly unattainable… but with some changes of words I at least feel a sense of direction. A large part of Unravel for me is empowerment. Empowering people to do something. To step up and make a difference…because change is necessary and entirely possible. But frankly those I most want to empower are kids.. especially mine. Unravel can do that. It can give them a certain amount of power and strength against the beast that is cancer..
The 2 things that stole their sister from them. Cancer and lack of money for the drs trying to do something to stop it. Unravel gives them that vehicle to drive and control.
But the most important thing is lacking for them in that.
Jennifer. Their big sissy. My baby girl.
We can’t touch her. We can’t hear her. We can’t laugh with her anymore..
We can’t know. ..
And I struggle. How to help them find some semblance of peace with that? How to help them .. help them with something so big and powerful I can’t even find the words to explain it.
Til I do. Til I change my words when we talk about her. When I am simply a mother talking about her daughter .. their sister or their best friend. This is when I am not talking from the (right now overwhelmingly loud) wounded part.. the part that was ripped away… the part she took with her. That will always be present. That will always have a voice. One I hope can just get softer with time.
The times I am aiming for now are when it comes from the place in my heart that remains so soft and full with love for her. Her mommy place. The place that knows I couldn’t keep her the way I wanted to.. but refuses to lose her forever. The place that gives my Jonathan-my Nicholas and my Charlotte back control with their relationship with their sister.
Simply. . She moved to heaven.
my perfectly imperfect little girl
i miss you
i want you all the time
but you are more than just dead
you left us for a new home
one i will join you in one day
you did not just die
but are waiting for us
…until there is a cure..