Month: November 2015

Fear

In the last year I’ve found that I have received most of my news information from Facebook.  Since the accident I do not watch the news or really follow current events.  People post a lot of that (especially now), so I have no choice but to see it.

Parker and I are friends with many people on both sides of the political spectrum, so we see some really interesting stuff.  Political beliefs are one thing, but very often I will notice that someone from the right will post about XYZ and then someone from the left (completely unrelated) will post something refuting XYZ.  So this is when I feel like I need to be educated and go in search of the facts.

I liked it better when I was ‘in the bubble.’  Where the worst thing that could happen, already did.  Ignorance is bliss and I liked my small little world where very little information got in.

A friend of mine recently posted on FB that she ‘chooses humanity over fear,’ in referring to the refugee crisis.  Of all the posts that I read concerning this, hers was the most researched and she was able to back up her viewpoint.

But I’m not here to write about politics.  I’m the last person that should be making an argument for either side.  What struck me was how she said she ‘chooses humanity over fear.’  Parker and I have been talking about it for days now and I’ve come to the realization that we don’t have a choice, fear is what we know.

Now I’m not speaking in reference to the refugee crisis, but rather this whole ISIS threat.  As far as I’m concerned, they have won with us.  They have met their end goal.  I’m fucking terrified.  I know what it’s like to lose a child.  I don’t ever want to be there again.

A week ago we were considering taking Darcy to see A Christmas Carol, that idea ended last night as I’m reading that we should ‘stay away from large crowds.’  Yes, we’re being paranoid and we get that.  Yes, we let ISIS win by sheltering ourselves, but it’s not a choice for us.  I didn’t choose fear, it chose me.

I do not like the hold that it has over our lives, but it’s going to change how we do things, where we go.  I honestly started looking into home schooling, this is how paranoid I’ve become.  Parker, who is so often my voice of reason when I’m being crazy looked at me last night and said, ok, I’m onboard.  He said to me, ‘we know what it’s like to lose a child, it changes how you view things, what you feel threatened by.’

So now I sit here in panic and wait for something bad to happen. I know it’s not healthy and most of the time I can snuggle the kiddos and make it disappear for a bit, but it’s always there in the back of my mind.  What if…

 

2 Years ‘AA’

So I need to write one more entry for CYG to close it out, but in order to do so, I need to look back at where I was last year relative to this year.  Suffice it to say, it’s going to be awhile.

I’m curious how different things look through the lense of 2 years out opposed to 1 year out.  Yes, there are obvious things have changed, such as Fletch, but it’s supposed to be about where I’m at in my ‘grief journey.’  I don’t know that I like that term because ‘journey’ implies that there is an end.  There is no end to this.

I cannot believe that I’m writing about this 2 years out.  It all seems so foreign to me now.  It’s like that awful thing that happened to someone else-but it actually happened to me.  How is that even possible?  2 years out and I still cannot wrap my head around losing Benny and I was there!  I guess not too much has changed in that department.

He would be 3 1/2 now.  I can’t believe that.  He would be in preschool.  Maybe he would play soccer or do gymnastics.  Maybe he and Darcy would fight like siblings do.  A lot of ‘maybe’s’ and ‘would’s’ here.  More like ‘should.’

I miss him every day.  I watch Fletch, who is so like his brother, and wonder what kind of mischief they might get into together.  They have the same flirty smile and deep dimples.  I watch Fletch play with Darcy and I’m so filled with happiness and sorrow all at once.  There’s someone missing from their game, there always will be.

I’m not surprised at how much I miss him, but rather how much I miss my mom.  I feel like every time something big happens, I miss her more.  I missed her at graduation, both high school and college; I missed her at my wedding, but most of all I missed her when I first had kids.

My grandmother was right down the street from us growing up.  She came over after school and did our laundry, ironed and always had fresh baked cookies and butter cake.  My mom’s family is close and I have so many amazing memories growing up with that family during holidays.  I miss that.  I want that for my kids.

I think what made me miss her most this year was the absence of our remaining parents.  Not one of them acknowledged November 8th.  No phone call, no email, no text.  It probably wouldn’t bother me so much if at least one of them remembered.  The worst thing for a grieving parent is the belief that their child is being forgotten.  Well, thanks for that.

I know that if my mom was here, she would have been there.  She would have been there so much over the last 2 years.  She would have been an amazing support, she would have been a parent.  It kills me.  It’s grief compounded.

2 years out sucks too.  All of it still feels so unfair.  I mourn for Benny, I mourn for my mom, I mourn that Fletch will never meet his older brother.  I’m assuming it will just get harder too, because he’s our after.  He doesn’t know what he’s missing.  Kind of like Darcy with my Mom.  She doesn’t know what she’s missing.  It breaks my heart for both of them.

I wish that I could say that it gets easier.  It’s like parenting I suppose, it doesn’t get easier, the grief just changes.  What used to set you off a year ago is ok and another trigger has taken it’s place.  You start to lose another part of that person.  It sucks.

 

 

CYG -Day 23

CYG -Da 23:  Love Letter

Running a little behind on my posts, so bear with me.  This topic is one that I’ve been thinking about for weeks now.  It’s so hard for me to choose who to write to to express my love.  There have been so many amazing people in our lives.

I could write it to Parker, because he has been totally amazing, patient and loving throughout this whole grieving process, but he never honestly goes on my blog.  Every once in awhile I’ll send him a link or read it to him or get an opinion, but this is MY personal journey.  And honestly, most of the stuff posted here we’ve already chatted about.  One of these days I’ll get him to write something here.  Maybe pick a ropic and we can both write down our thoughts.  But I digress.

To the Two Ladies in My Life (you onow who you are),

There really aren’t words to express how much you mean to me, just like there weren’t words when Benny passed.  But I didn’t need words, just someone to be there, hold me up and tell me it’s ok to cry.

Even before the accident, you both have always supported me and my family.  Even though we are not related, you have become family, another Auntie and Grandmother to my kiddos.  You loved Benny as if he were your own and not once did either of you ever stop to think of your own grief, but rather mine.

When everything happened you leaped into action and took so much on your shoulders.  You were here for days helping us to make decisions, bringing food and just being here.  When it was all over, it didn’t stop.  You still called, you still showed up.  You were able to do what so many others couldn’t and you never put a time limit on our grief.

You have watched Darcy for us so that Parker and I would be able to spend time together as a couple, trying to figure this all out.  You listened to me try to navigate Darcy’s grief.  You listened to me complain about disability, insurance and every other obstacle that we faced outside of grief.

There was never judgement.  That’s not to say that you didn’t give me a nudge every once in awhile if I was being unfair.  You talk about my son always and celebrate him in your own ways.  You are the ones that Benny knew best and loved so much.  He was so lucky to have you in his life.

You have celebrated Fletcher with me and welcomed him into this complicated, new life.  You get how hard of a balance this has been.  You have loved him as I’ve loved him, as an Auntie or Grandmother would.

You took care of me in the absence of my mother.  You have no idea how that feels.  It’s been so long that I’ve felt that way.  It’s been so long since I would let anyone do anything for me.

Some say blood is thicker than water.  I say my friends are the family that I chose for myself, because we don’t need proof of kin to show that we’re family.  You both amaze me with your love and generosity.  We all love you so much!  I’m so lucky to call you mine!  XOXO