I went to Facebook tonight and went to my Facebook Memories. And only then did I remember what tomorrow is. On 11/13/2015, the doctor's said that Ellie had cancer and the journey began. I am shocked that I made it to this date and didn't remember. My birthday is Thursday, the 14th and I remembered that. I got done with our board meeting around 6:15, ran an errand and came home and felt down and just wanted to go to bed. Then the facebook memories made it clear why I was feeling down. My body knew the date, even if my mind had forgotten.
Anyway, this prompted me going through some old journal entries.
Here is one. Ellie passed in January 2017.
Jun 30, 2017
Like a ton of bricks
...this thing called grief hits...like a punch in the gut, or a rush of emotion that takes your breath away, and moves tears from your eyes. They just don't move, they flood your eyes and your face and pour down like rain. Tears so great, and emotion so strong that you feel like you can't function.
(I wrote this last night, but our Internet is down)
I suppose there is a numbness that comes along with grief as well. The rawness of the emotion felt soon after Ellie passed has changed. In some ways, I feel like my heart has hardened, like I am less willing to be open. Or, if you catch me at just the right time, I will share with you things that may seem harder for you to hear than for me to say. As I navigate this crappy road of grief, I know that there are triggers. Triggers for my sadness and pain and intense emotion of losing our sweet Ellie and how sad that makes me. and how mad. It just stinking pisses me off!! I hate it. Every single day I hate that we only got a little over 3 yrs with Ellie. Somedays, I will say how thankful I am for that time, and I will always be thankful for that time. That being said, I am not sure if the day will ever come where I understand that there was another plan. I know that God was with us, is with us and will continue to be with us. I do have questions now that I never thought possible. I do have anger. I am angry at God. I am angry that, in my perspective, we were willing to praise Him and Honor Him, even when life sucked. And her pain and lack of healing was so great. What I wouldn't give to have her back in my arms.
Most days, life seems ok. Some days, it even feels good. Of course, it is so different than when Ellie was in it. Then today, I went to work on some things around the house, and the damn grief hit me. Hit me, and hit me again. When Ellie was home during her sickness, the majority of the toys had made their way to our living room so that we could create a "safe zone" and have Ellie under our eyes at all times. Over the past few months, we have been working on adjusting the house to our current needs. Bill had moved the toys to one of the empty bedrooms awhile back. And, something in me said that I was ready to deal with some of things. That something in me was wrong.
One of the things I learned the most from those of you that reached out and lifted us up, is that when someone is having a hard time, help them. And, if you don't know how, just try. And, if you try and it seems to be unhelpful, know that your intentions were seen, especially when they were pure intentions, with the desire to help. A simple text that says, I am thinking of you, or love you. Or know that life is probably hard, but I am praying for goodness, and God's presence. Sending gift cards or money was such a blessing to us. And, we know we will be able to help others in need. I still feel indebted to so many people for the outpouring of support. I have a long, long list of thank you cards to write. Thank you cards that I should have written months ago. It's one of those triggers though. Despite my strong belief to walk in thankfulness whenever possible, I am also often paralyzed by fear. In this case, fear of facing a trigger. I have realized that I think fear is my demon. It is the one thing that keeps me from doing so many things. I have come to realize that I am an all or nothing person. Go big or go home. But, when I go home, I can't get out of bed. And, some days I am ok with that.
It's almost the end of June, and I just now feel like the idle time is kicking in some. As soon as school got out, we made the trip to Ohio, and I have had the opportunity to work at the school some in June, and now I have a test to study for. I returned to work in February, I was afraid to go back and face my students, and peers, and coworkers. I was afraid of the outside world. I would make goals, like when running long distances. I had a trainer once tell when training for a half marathon, to look forward at something, and make a goal to keep running until you get there. So, say there was a fire hydrant down the street, and I felt like I couldn't run anymore. I would say to myself, "just make it to the fire hydrant." Then if I wanted to stop running at the fire hydrant, I could. But, most often, I would keep going. If the run was really tough for me, I would slow down and walk for a brief period, and then start running again. Other times, I would get to the fire hydrant and pick another something to run to. And, another, and another, and another, until the 5, or 6, or 7, or 13 miles were done. I never in my life thought I would run a half marathon, will probably never run a full marathon, but with perserverance, discipline, trainers, friends and people supporting me, I was able to complete 2 half marathons. It's been a few years, but the accomplishment I felt will always remain with me and having a long-term goal, and working towards it has moved me to face fears. Back to work...When I returned to work, I would set short term goals for myself. The 1st day I returned was a professional development day. The students had the day off, but us teachers had to go to training. It was the only way I could see somewhat easing into the return to work. Then I would make another goal of making it through 1 class with students, then a day with students, then a week. Then months. And, as many teachers will also say, summer was my finish line. And, I crossed it. Here we are. Summer.
As some of you recall, I had some envy about summer vacations last year. Beach vacations, time with family, time in the sun and water, with no worries of sickness. I think I will always chase hope. I guess I am a woman full of both fear and hope. Fear of so many things, but hope that blooms, and lingers, but then sometimes fades and then dies. As I was sitting sick with envy, in the hospital with Ellie last June, I also sat with hope that this summer would be my summer. My summer to spend with all 4 kids, on the beach. Ellie well and cancer free. In remission from that stupid MDS and AML. With Ellie having no port, or picc line, or broviac line that would keep her unable to get in the water. Losing a child changes you. I know we all die. That is inevitable. What I sometimes have such a hard time understanding is why it is so hard for us when someone we love dies. I mean, my faith in God says that I will see her again. But, what does that really mean. Do I get to hold her in my arms, or just feel her spirit near me. God, I wish I could hold her, and hear her say Mommmy again. Once the effects of the leukemia really hit Ellie in December of last year, her health went downhill, and fast. And, our once very verbal, articulate 3 yr hold got quiet. And, that was one of the hardest parts of seeing her struggle. The mom heart of mine broke over and over again. Feeling guilty for wanting to hear her voice more before she passed away. Hoping that despite what the doctor's all over the country predicted, that our sweet Ellie would be that story, the one where she was healed against all odds.
And, here I sit. With a different reality. With summer beach trips still plaguing me. And, no. I'm not mad that you are at the beach with your family. In fact, I am happy for you. I want you to enjoy it. Even through my off and on envy, I smile when I see you at the beach. andfor me, please enjoy that time, the good and the bad of it.
Well, I sure did not expect this grief tonight. Nor did I expect to write this much. So, if you made it this far, thank you. For taking the time to hear me.
And, to all a Good Night.
