Good Things

I remember thinking (rather naively) as a child that it seemed whatever my parents wanted to happen, would happen. I thought that they somehow ‘willed’ whatever they wanted and the ‘Universe’ took care of them. As a girl of 8 years of age, I thought this was how the world worked. I was priveleged. I felt deserving. Life was good.

My mom died when I was 16. It wasn’t an accident or unexpected, but cancer. She was sick, then there was surgery and chemo and radiation. Then remission. Then months of uncertainty that led to me being in a hospital room seeing the words ‘DNR’ and knowing exactly what they meant. The cancer came back and we were given months.

I was so many things during that time that it’s hard to even write about it all. I was relieved that her suffering would end. I was terriffied of losing her. I was scared of what life without her would be like. I was sad beyond anything I ever imagined possible. I was lost. I did not know what happened. What had we done to deserve this?

When Benny and I were struck by my car, I remember thinking it couldn’t be real. It was like watching something happen to someone else. Saying good bye to him and telling his sister was beyond awful. Imagining our lives without him was heartbreaking. Planning his memorial was surreal. Living the last 5 years without my son have been HARD. Again, what had we done to deserve this?

This past year has been tough. No, that’s false, this past year has been shit. Not losing-a-loved-one-shit, but shit just the same. My¬† patience has been tested time and again and Murphy’s Law seems to befall us more than most. WHY? What did we do to deserve this?

When the bad things pile up it gets harder to see the good things behind them. I know that they are there, but man I am having a hell of time finding them right now. When I go dark and really sit around and think about it, maybe I only deserve bad things. Otherwise, why would they keep happening?

I am in my new house surrounded by all of my stuff again (finally) and this is what I see. I think the road to get here has finally taken it’s toll on me. All of my attempts to brush off the last year as part of ‘the journey’ is crap. I’m tired of making lemonade, please pass the grapes so that I can make some wine instead.

I just want good things to happen. I want to be 8 again and believe that what I ‘will’ will happen. I want to feel worthy of good things again. I probably need to change my way of thinking, but for right now, pity party, table of 1 please.

 

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Sounds of Silence

It has been nearly 5 years since my son’s death. Five long years filled with a flurry of activity. Five years full of hope, sorrow and gratitude. We have been constantly in motion.

After Benny’s death we felt like we needed to live life to the fullest. Nothing makes you think long and hard about life than the death of someone young. I mean, my God, I’m going to die some day. It’s inevitable. And that day can be tomorrow or 50 years from tomorrow, but it’s going to happen.

We did a lot in that first year. We renovated our home, we traveled. We went to Disney World, we went cross country. It was important for us to be able to spend time with Darcy and try to figure out our family as just the three of us. As soon as we were close to even glimpsing what that was I was pregnant.

It was a boy. Another little blonde haired, blue eyed baby to remind us of what we lost. At the same time, he was a little reminder of hope that not all was lost. Besides sleep, we lost lots of sleep. And patience and probably a bit of sanity over this very demanding and loud little person.

And by the time he was old enough, there was the hint of another baby. And we decided to take over another business, oh and sell our home. My daughter’s birth was the quiet before the storm that brewed over the last year that turned our family’s life into complete chaos.

Four moves later, a year into a new business and the baby finally sleeps (a little anyway). We are finally home for good in the middle of the woods and the silence is deafening. Things seem slower, calmer for the first time in years.

We made the choices that guided us through our grief over the last 5 years. Some would say that we’re running from it. Possibly. Maybe it’s just our process. Maybe the keeping busy is our way of living life to it’s fullest.

Right now I’m going to enjoy the quiet. I’m going to savor every chance to sit on my deck and listen to peepers. I’m going to enjoy my opportunity to shower more than a few times a week because my kids are growing older. I’m going to spend some time looking at my grief from the lens of a now veteraned bereaved woman and try to figure out what it all means.

Things finally seem to be settling down. It might be time to take that for what it is and let it be.

Sounds of Silence