After Benny died, we were warned about Darcy. She was only 4 and we were told that a traumatic event can seriously affect young children (especially those under age 5) for the rest of their lives. Because of this she is at higher risk of substance abuse and struggles from mental health. We were lucky that we had family that worked in social services to help point us in the right direction. And what the hell did we know, we were still in the trenches of our own grief.
I have spent 8 long years worrying about how the grief and trauma would shape my child. She was picked up by strangers from school and brought to a house covered in police tape and swarming with cops by a family member in shock. And then she’s told her brother is dead. That’s a lot for a 4 year old to process. That’s a lot for a grown adult to process.
I really hate that this is part of my daughter’s story. I lost my Mom at 16 and I struggle with the fact that she also has a juvenile loss. It just feels so unfair that she should know grief at such a young age.
When my Mom died, my Dad shut down. Alcoholism took over and he was shell of his former self for a long time. When Benny died I vowed that we wouldn’t do that to Darcy. I made my husband promise me that we wouldn’t fall apart to the point where we were no longer able to parent.
This may have backfired a bit where we held some stuff too close to try to protect Darcy, but we did the very best that we could. We had no idea what the hell we were doing. And grieving while parenting a grieving child is Fn hard. It’s undescribable. I have never felt so inadequate in all of my life. I couldn’t save her from what was hurting her, or even try to make it better. And I was in so much pain myself.
This girl gave us something to live for. She made getting out of bed every day bearable. Because she still needed us. She saved us in every sense of the word.
Today she is 13. And I look at her in awe of who she has become. Now I’m not naive enough to think that the road of teenage hood ahead of us won’t be hard. But this kid is pretty damn resilient.
The grief and the trauma have effected her, but not completely in all of the negative ways I was told. She still struggles with anxiety and probably always will (like her mama), but she has been taught coping mechanisms that have allowed her to live with it for now. If that changes, we will deal with it.
My bestie and I often joke that we ‘want to be like Darcy,’ when we grow up. In the last few years she has has grown into this amazingly, self assured young woman. She knows what she wants and what she doesn’t. She will not allow anything or anyone to hold her back. She is also the first to offer help, or to stand up for someone else. This girl is strong in her convictions and follows her conscience in all things. She sticks to her moral compass.
All I saw 8 years ago was questions about how we would all fare. I’ve spent so much time worrying about how this trauma would affect Darcy, meanwhile I feel it has given her perspective well beyond that of her peers. She seems to understand what’s important and what’s not. She is wise beyond her 13 years.
I’m really freaking proud of this girl who has gone through so much. She is my right hand girl in all things and so helpful with her siblings. She is always up for an adventure or some crazy scheme I’ve cooked up. She amazes me with her strength, her heart and her perseverance. Happy 13th Birthday Darcy Doodle.❤️