My mind often struggles to catch up with my reality. Most of the time Im not even aware of it.
My daughter was here. Jennifer lived. And Jennifer died. Forever 6.
The other day the kids played a joke on me. They all got in the car to go somewhere like they do everyday but when I walked over to buckle Bridgette in Jonathan was in her seat … the car erupted in giggles as I jumped back in confusion and surprise.
I was laughing as I started to say Jennifer did that when she was your age..
It was like somebody ran across my stomach with a blade.
The pain. Sharp. Immediate and shocking.
He is 7. She is 6. Little brother older than big sister.
Luckily I didn’t get the sentence out of my mouth and they were all too busy being proud of themselves to hear me.
I stumbled up the step out of the garage and walked into the kitchen clutching my invisible injury. Trying to stop the bleed. I grabbed the counter. I swore. A lot. And then I rallied.
I never want to forget her. I never want her not to be part of my daily life and thoughts. She is my daughter. Parents simply aren’t made to be able to push their children aside.
but I wish I had some semblance of control over the security of my day to day. Of having any idea where the landmines are hidden. I don’t though. This simple story is just an example of a time I step confidently forward only to fall into a hole.
Luckily there wasn’t any collateral damage.
They have their own battles. Their own wars waging unseen.
I was typing up a post in a private FB group of bereaved parents. .. Feeling terribly sorry for myself. My jealousy over friends with siblings intact, seeing those relationships and longing for it back. Thinking how hard it was for me to have lost that..
I was interrupted. By Jonathan crying coming towards me. He barreled into me on the couch.. he was calling my name.
You know how you can learn a baby’s cries.. the hungry ones versus the tired cries.. I realized then that I have learned his Jennifer cry. There is a depth to it.. a echo of confused heartache.. I first heard it when I told him Sissys body stopped working. ..
So I just held him at first..
ok buddy ok .. I’m here.
He was looking at book about the movie Tangled in his room .. made him think of Ariel… and then her Ariel piggy bank. ..
It took awhile to settle him enough to get to past that chorus of words. .. To talk about why that was upsetting.
He thought we all forgot. He forgot and it scared the hell out of him. And thats a mighty scary load for a 7 year old boy to carry. We stayed up .. for quite awhile watching videos of her.
I showed him how I take notes on my phone. Of things I want to blog about later.. and now of memories I have of her when they pop up..
Because forgetting is normal. But when memories are all you have its terrifying.
This perpetually grieving family thing is so hard to navigate. Much of my own pain I have been letting out privately. .. His interpuratuion of that is that I have forgotten his sister. He wants to talk about her more. Watch more videos … tell stories and look at her things like we used to.
I thought I was doing it right. I told him that. Big boy talk time. How I never wanted them to see my tears for them and think it meant I loved her more. I told him that if I was given a choice between staying here with them or being with her I would choose them every single time. .. I knew that even the moment she died..
I would choose them.
I acknowledged that I went too far in my quest to protect them and ended up doing the opposite. We talked about how to handle the kids differing needs and how he would help with that. And I made the promise to him that I would try harder to talk about her.. And he promised if I did it too much or at the wrong times he would tell me. That we would teach each other.. me about their sister .. and them about how to parent through our shared grief.
My kids lost their big sister. They lost their leader.
Losing the limited memories they have must feel like a whole new loss. A lifetime of new memories to take their place stolen..
Easter it came up again.. he didn’t want to go. He couldn’t remember any Easter stories of her.. but he just knew she was fun on Easter.. So we laid together.. And I said we could stay home.. but first I wanted to tell him stories of her.. Of course on the spot I struggled to come up with any.. But then I did..
We hosted Easter and wanted to make some gluten free treats. So we three attempted to make nests with peeps in them. I couldn’t recall the name of the cereal.. so I tried to explain what they looked like.. He had no idea. Then I remembered Fruity Pebbles! He had never had them. I sat up and shook him.. They were so good he had to try them.. Jennifer loved them. We settled back in .. talked a few minutes and he was ready to go.
On the way to the Easter celebration we stopped at the store to grab a few things. I ran in alone.. and right in front of me .
The only thing this guy was buying.
oh my jennifer lynn
you will find a way won’t you..
to give us new memories
…until there is a cure..