“Memory keeps the ones we love alive”

A simple, perhaps innocuous quote that has lived in my head this week after watching a kids movie with my family.

“Memory keeps the ones we love alive”

My memories. My Jennifer Lynn have been fairly all consuming the past few weeks. .. All coming to head last Friday.. But I have tried .. (sometimes failing) .. to keep them to myself. It has felt too selfish .. or as my kids say ‘pick me’ to share much out loud .. So I haven’t.

“Memory keeps the ones we love alive”

But this quote reverberates in me.. shaking loose that old familiar feeling of guilt for not caring for my first born the only way I can now.. Sharing her name and remembering her .. with others. And most certainly in the most comfortable of places.. here .. The most public private place I know.

“Memory keeps the ones we love alive”

So I will share to those who chose to listen.

Jennifer should be a senior .. We have so many friends with seniors.. even now typing this the battle rages .. rising up choking me .. whispering if you say this they will hide from you.. they will be too scared to share with you. . .

“Memory keeps the ones we love alive”

ok sissy ill keep going .. at least for me. .

maybe i wont even share it.. but maybe just for you and me ok

Its hard to see .. the wondering and longing that claws at me. The kinder to senior AI photos.. I made one. So stupid. I wonder so desperately who she would be now. Who she actually is now.. I have faith.. I have faith in where she is and who she is with.. But I don’t know the actual details .. and I want to know .. Did she keep growing in heaven. Is there a 18 year old version of her waiting for me? I actually do have my thoughts on all that .. I can share another day..

I have been a mother for 18 years. .. She was always the oldest child of any of our friend groups.. But the oldest age I have gotten to parent is 16. Its hard to explain but it makes me feel a little dizzy.. a little disorientated.. that I simply don’t know.

i miss you..

But I want to see. I want people to share. I hate it. And I love it. It centers me a little .. helps me regain my equilibrium.. by breathing in the air of who she should be.. if only through a computer screen. It makes no sense. It is completely illogical that something that causes real pain.. also gifts real relief. ..

As graduations have loomed.. my yearning for her has gained strength. I should be hosting a dual grad party for Jennifer and her Bubbas (promoting from 8th grade) . .

Its like that feeling of a old school train in the distance.. you can feel the rumble in the ground .. then you can hear it and eventually you see it.. bearing down. .. fast and unstoppable. Thats how the second half of this year has been. I can look back and see how I became so focused with other things concerning our surviving kids (specifically my boys) because I think it gave me something to ignore the rumble beneath my feet .. and it gave me a parenting choice.. One that I actually had some control over.

I found ways to acknowledge it .. thinking if I did just a little I could still simply turn my back and ignore the train full of memories and could have been moments. Full of dreams and wishes and so many questions. ..

Eventually though I did what I do. I sat here behind my screen and I wrote. Sharing with a friend who I know .. knows Jennifer shoud be here. .. I hoped that would be enough.. To allow me to have the train pass by without knocking me down..

its so silly how often I have to re-learn the same lesson about myself. .. Eventually I have to get it out.. Really dig in and deep.. Eventually I have to share to free myself from the clenching. Little bits are enough to buy time but never enough to truly breathe… but right now I am getting there..

So we went to our friends graduation. For this girl. .. but also for my Jennifer.. I knew it might be hard. .. I knew I would sit and perhaps hide in the back. But I had to. I had to be there or I would always always wonder. Always long for an unpromised moment that was locked on that train.. I shared with the kids as we drove that I was missing their sister. That she could have been graduating too..

jonathan already knew though ..

it will always be a bit different for him wont it sissy miss?..

I tried hard. But couldn’t not cry. .. Just a little. Bridgey sat next to me. She got a tissue from her purse and just held my hand. One bright spot of this life they were handed is how comfortable they are with sadness. . How they understand sadness is an emotion just like any other. .. and how my grief over their sister is simply because I love her and all of them so much. But I did ok..

Walking out to the parking lot though.. Jonathan squeezed his way between me and his sisters and put his arm around me.. And then I cried… just that true cry of eyes open and tears falling. ..I don’t know if I did that before or not. But I am sure all bereaved parents know what I mean. I don’t know if its a normal thing or not. .. how funny.. I really don’t know..

We got to the parking lot.. full of cars but not people and he grabbed me then.. tight . He whispered oh Mama.. And then I cried. That deep guttural cry that empties you from your depths. (this I know everyone understands .. this cry is universal) And he allowed himself to ache for his sister too… Maybe for me too.. I’m not even sure. But for those moments it was just me and him and love and pain. ..

not just me and him was it?

you were there too

We sat in the car then .. and he offered to drive. I said no of course.. He did what he could to take care of me.. It was time for me to be Mom again. But then I looked at this young man of mine and saw his need to care for me.. to feel like a protector and provider for someone he loves. So he drove.. We went to get a treat in honor of their sister.. And to capture for all of us the potential for deliciousness within love and loss. . Simply put none of us were ready to go home to real life quite yet..

That time he didn’t want to wear a costume trick or treating..

and one of those times when sharing a room wasn’t close enough for sleeping..

But real life did come.. and I noticed how grown up my babies are becoming. My boys.. for several days flanked me wherever we went. .. Their way of protecting and caring for me.. And my girls offered to cook food for the family and snuggled me.. Their way of protecting and caring for me.. They still fought though so don’t paint too perfect of an image in your head..

I am beyond blessed.. for 5 children that find ways to teach me so much.

But still I held it close. .. having an urge to come here and write.. and share.. But not. Even now doubt creeps in.. Does any of this make any sense? Why even share?

“Memory keeps the ones we love alive”

Maybe it is crazy to share. Maybe it won’t make sense.. But it’s somehow a new memory of her. Of who she could have been .. and who she was.

A first born.. A big sister.. Perfectly imperfect

I think I realize now .. that you can’t ever really avoid the train.. It will rumble and wait for you to be ready.. Because when you finally allow it to hit.. it doesn’t destroy. It simply passes through you. Letting you wonder and grieve those could have been moments and smile at the memories. ..

My 16 year old son held me as my train passed through me and maybe as his passed through him..

you

my should be graduate girl are worth it.

every tear.. every ache

you are missed

and

you are loved.

…until there is a cure ..