reality bites

I had this false perspective of reality.. I thought it was a simple thing.. As it turns out it is anything but.. We can’t change our reality .. but we certainly can deny it.

This still feels unreal.. Like it can’t really have happened.. My daughter can’t have died..

I think I am learning .. that it’s not so much that we get stronger in child loss or that the pain dulls but that we simply get better at denying it..

As horrible as it is to admit I think that’s how we learn to survive. .

We are able to convince ourselves it wasn’t real.. that our child wasn’t really here.. So they can’t possibly really be gone. 

so when it hits.. it is sharp and it is biting. It can completely steal my breath and knock me out at my knees.. crippling.

Right now I am hurting.. I am struggling to deny the truth. Jennifer Lynn Kranz lived.. A beautiful life.. And she died. A horrible death.

Right now its constant .. the memories rushing back that I so desperately want to fight against. .. Because I know .. I know because this isn’t year one or even year two.. I know what it means..

It means I am stuck in it. My grief.. my ache for her like a thick mud that I have to walk through.. And it hard .. I think because Jennifer’s time with cancer was so short.. I think because it came on such a memorable day October 28th her 6th birthday.  . because she battled through such a special time of the year.. all the holidays.. dying 2 days shy of Valentines Day.. That it envelopes me..

It becomes a shadow coloring this time of year..

So its scary to do what I was once so good at it. To just let go. And jump in.. to allow myself to taste sorrow. .. because I know how hard it is to pull myself back up out of it. And I know I always will come out of it..

 

always.  every time I will rise for them.

So I have found myself doing everything I can to avoid it. .. because I am tired

you know i miss you right? you know its that i miss you so much it scares me. you know that right buggers?

But I can’t anymore.. I know that.. I know I can’t do what I need to do on her birthday.. To celebrate her .. and remember her with our kids and her Daddy during the day .. and rage against the beast that stole her in the night (our first gala.. join us.. donate if you can’t) 

 

So I sit.. And I allow myself to look up.. At her picture on the mantel.. and look in her eyes.. for just a moment is all it takes. . and I turn inside out. ..

She is stolen from me all over again. and then I write.

And I simply and truly miss her. That pure feeling as you hold your newborn baby.. as you rock them in the night.. . That feeling you get when you sneak in and see your 8 year old cuddled in and asleep at night. .

That pure. That clean love.. Its just like that.. except the opposite. Its the void the of all that ..

Its like you can physically feel the hole. Although in reality.. there is no physical hole.. But I already know how I can bend reality ..  so I hold my hands over the hole hoping to stop it from overtaking me..

 i jump

for you jennifer.

to find you again

and I survive losing you again.

for them

..until there is a cure..

 

3 Responses to “reality bites”

  1. I wish I had the words…but they don’t exist. I don’t like to say “I’m sorry”, because it isn’t strong enough, it is thrown around carelessly by so many people. I’ve been reading your words since shortly after Jennifer’s diagnosis, and I promise to read your words for as long as you choose to write them. I’m grateful that you have chosen to write…your words have made me become not only sorry, but active.

    It feels strange to admit that I think of Jennifer every single day, but I do. She was the first child diagnosed with DIPG that I ever grew to love, the first time that I found out a childhood cancer exists that is a death sentence upon diagnosis. She has always reminded me of my own young daughter, they even look alike (with the exception of Jennifer’s gorgeous brown eyes…my daughter’s eyes are blue). My daughter and I light a glittery candle every February 12th and listen to “Roar” in JLK’s honor…and we always have that annual “pillowfight night”. Although we do not know your family, we have grown to “care”, and promise to always do so.

    I’m just a random stranger from the internet (Texas, actually), but Jennifer’s short but oh-so-beautiful life and horrific death altered the course of my personal life: it MADE me care, and now I will always “care”, because JLK deserved that. I will forever fight against the monster known as childhood cancer, especially DIPG, because of her…because of Katherine…because of Wyatt and Chad and Sky. Because they all should still be here, choosing their Halloween costumes and getting excited for holidays. It’s not acceptable that they are not here. It’s not acceptable to me that you (and all bereaved “cancer parents”) are forced to carry the immense weight of child loss. It’s not right…and I will continue to fight against the cancer monster until no more parents have to suffer child loss at the hands of that merciless beast. Because of JLK.

    I just wanted to send you some love, and let you know that Jennifer’s name will always be said in my home…and let you know that your words carry power, and they are being read. Sending you so much love and virtual hugs.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *