If You’re Happy and You Know It…

When I was a senior in high school my grandmother passed away.  She had been one of the biggest influences on the person I had become up until that point.  She had also been very sick for a very long time.  I remember spending Christmas Eve of my 8th grade year visiting her in the ICU.  She’d been that sick at least that long.  I remember feeling sad, and I remember crying a few times when it hit me that she was really gone.  But I don’t remember feeling the way that I feel now.  I remember feeling almost relieved.  Relieved that she was finally with God and that she wouldn’t be suffering anymore.  No more trips to the hospital, no more pain…  Just rest and peace.

I remember feeling sorry for my grandfather.  My grandparents had been together forever and from what I saw my grandmother had always taken care of him.  She’d always done everything inside the house while he’d always taken care of everything outside of it.  It’ll be 10 years in January and from my fresh perspective, my grandfather is still very much grieving over the loss of my grandmother.  In his eyes he is too old to go out and start over, and it seems honestly that his only want at this point is to join her.

It’s thoughts like those that make me wonder where I would be right now without Magdalene.  How I would be getting out of bed every morning if it weren’t for her needing me…

I keep going back and re-reading the stages of grief.  I remember being in denial, I remember being angry…  and now I am stuck in depression with no end of “acceptance” in sight.  Most days I no longer cry…  Now it’s just moody or melancholy or being exhausted for absolutely no reason…  I’d almost rather still be angry.  But that’s just it and why I’m no longer there…  There is nobody for me to be angry at.  No one to “blame” if you will…  My Dad keeps reminding me that we gave her every chance that we could, and he’s right.  That a lot of people wouldn’t have stuck with it and given her any chance at all, and he’s right.  But something in me kept saying “we are choosing life, and surely that means that God will choose life also”.  And he did…  Just not in the way that we had hoped…  Not in the way that made things easier for us.  So who do I possibly have to be angry at?  And so I am stuck in depression…

A maddening, functioning depression where all of my patience goes to a toddler who has no idea what I’m going through.  An “I just want to break down” but I’m being called to dance, or sing Twinkle Twinkle, or to play the drums or build a giant lego tower depression…  An “I’m truly happy for you and your new pregnancy” please let me go and have a nervous breakdown depression…  But again, 10 years later I am convinced that my grandfather is still grieving and unable to move on from the loss of my grandmother…  Where is the acceptance in that?

Thank you for letting me vent, and the mountain of love that you all have shown us.

It’s Been One Month…

It's been a month.  My body has healed and life is moving on.  I don't cry every single day.  I've even stopped getting angry at nothing.  Most days.  But the intense missing you has yet to subside.

I've been told not to think about you, because it will make it easier.  But your Father and I disagree.  You are our baby.  Our perfect, innocent baby.  We will never get to hear you laugh, or cry but that doesn't change our love for you.  We hope you know that.  I will never get frustrated with you because I can't fix it or don't know what's wrong.  I will never be at my wits end because you're testing the limits as your charming sister does most days.  We will never get to experience any of your firsts or tell you how proud of you we are.

If you can see down from where you are you know that we talk about and grieve over you often.  You have made such a difference in our lives.  Your existence has tested us and brought us closer in ways that most couples will never experience.  In ways that I hope other couples never have to experience.

I think about you all of the time.  I wonder what it's like up there and whether or not you will always be so tiny.  I picture your nose and little lips as you slept peacefully in my arms.  While I was so hopeful that you would continue to grace us with your presence, I'm so glad that you never had to suffer.

We would not have been the perfect parents, but I promise that we would have continued to do everything in our power to offer you the world.  Because you deserve that and so much more.  And I need to accept that you have received it.

I am trying so hard to stop being angry at God for taking you from us so quickly.  I know that all of my feelings are selfish, but that doesn't make the missing you any easier to bare.  I had somehow convinced myself in the back of my mind that since we had chosen to give you a chance at this life, that God would make it so.  But I know that isn’t how it works.  That’s not how He works and that wasn’t His plan for you.

Know that I love you with all of my heart, the way that only a mother can and that fact will never change.