tomorrow

Tomorrow I will dust myself off.. Tomorrow I will pick myself up …

but today..

Today I crumble. Today my 2 year old toddles over to me and asks to be picked up. Today she offers to kiss my owie and wipes away my tears.

Today we start to clean up the garage.. and find bags of my dead daughters clothing. Ones she wore and lived in before we knew the string of letters DIPG and the power they would forever hold over me.

oh jennifer..
oh jennifer..

Today I ache for her so deeply. Today I am a really crappy mom and today I feel horrible about it.. but can’t seem to stop. ..

today.

today I find watermelon on clothes she never wore but were in her things.

ok sissy .. tomorrow ok.. better tomorrow.. i just can’t today.. sorry

Today I bury my face in the jammies she wore so often. The ones she learned to walk in and the ones she ran and played in … something for each of my surviving girls.

Today my 4 year old does his best to help. As mom and dad fight over nothing.. . Just quietly doing his 4 year old best to help us get things done and put away. He watches as we hug and say sorry in words and actions..

Today I looked at the Christmas tree and am nearly overtaken by violent anger. This incredible urge to grab it and throw it through the window. To tear it apart.. tear it all down and run.. run until my legs can’t carry me any longer.

Tonight

tonight my 6 year old doesn’t fall asleep. So I get him. We watch a grown up cooking show together and I say sorry for not being the mom they deserve.

Tonight he tells me “its ok mom because I really don’t even remember”

please please please let that be the way all 6 years feel about their mommy’s mistakes

Tonight the house is quiet.. but I am not. Tonight I am undone. Tonight I overflowing.. Tonight I am grateful that my husband is working the night shift.. for the solitude I need. And for the excuse to cancel plans..

Tonight I look at her stocking hanging .. but I keep my distance.  If I get too close I won’t be able to contain it anymore..  I will scream until my lungs burn .. I will drain myself quickly and loudly and collapse and sleep right there.

Like I did the first night without her. Somehow I slept without sleep. 

Tonight I drain slowly and quietly.

deeply

tomorrow though

tomorrow i will be better

pinkie swear baby

tomorrow i will

but not now.

DSC_0918..until there is a cure..

10 Responses to “tomorrow”

  1. Oh sweet Libby. I don’t know what to say. I am still here listening, reading, doing. We love you l so much. We love Jennifer. LOVE4JLK ♡

  2. My prayers I send, my love you will forever have, my hugs float with Angels to surround you! You are never alone, we are all with you all the time in our thoughts and prayers. I can’t even begin to understand your deep pain but we ll hurt with you sweetheart! You are not not even on your worst day, a bad mom! Your an awesome Mom trying to heal while struggling to remain Mom/wife. Its an impossible goal some days but you are and will always be awesome!! I love you sweetheart!!

  3. I just want to wrap you in love…I wish I had the words to do that, but I know I do not. I’m so sorry. But not just sorry. Heartbroken, devastated by your words…and active. I will always be active, not simply “just sorry”…Jennifer deserves this, and so do you. I wish I could pick you up and support you, even though I’ve never physically met you. Your words, so very powerful. Praying tomorrow is a “better day” where you can function. But please don’t beat yourself up if you still feel overpowered by your grief, unable to make tomorrow “better”. You are a mother who lost a child. Not just any child, but the daughter that you so desperately fought for, the one that made you a mother…the one that turned from mere “child” to “best friend”. Even in your current state, powerless to control your emotions, you ARE a good mother. Your children understand. You love them, fiercely…you love them always. They know this. You turn so many “no’s” into “yes’s” for them. Please do not feel guilty for what you can’t control. Any mother in your shoes would feel the same way…this I am sure of. You, Tony and your children are in my prayers and thoughts constantly. Thank you for sharing your deepest thoughts, fears and memories with us…you truly are helping Jennifer change lives and will lead to the complete unraveling of the word “DIPG”. Love4JLK…always.

  4. So powerful and poignant. Nothing to say except that people are still listening to your story, a lot of them struggling with their own feelings from grief within their lives. You are not alone. Xoxoxo

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