Choices

amys_lg_fave_morgan

Three years ago today, A mother made a choice to provide alcohol for her son. She chose to allow her drunk son and his friend to get behind the wheel of his truck and drive, which resulted in his own death, as well as killing my daughter.
Their choices took away my child, her future, the life of a beautiful young woman who had just begun to live.
Three years ago today, their choices determined what would from now on would be a “Normal” life for me.

This Is Now What “Normal” Is …
Author Unknown

Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family’s life.

Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays, Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, July 4th and Easter.

Normal is feeling like you know how to act and are more comfortable at a funeral than a wedding or birthday party.. yet feeling a stab of pain in your heart when you smell the flowers and see the casket.

Normal is feeling like you can’t sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don’t like to sit through anything.

Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand ‘what ifs’ and ‘why didn’t I’s’ go through your head constantly.

Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.

Normal is having the TV on the minute you walk into the house to have noise, because silence is deafening.

Normal is staring at every young girl who looks like she is my daughter’s age and then thinking of the age she would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.

Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind because of the hole in my heart.

Normal is telling the story of your child’s death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone’s eyes at how awful it sounds, and yet realizing it has become a part of my “normal”.

Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child’s memory and their birthday and survive these days, trying to find the balloon or flag that fits the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really.

Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special that reminds me of my daughter. Thinking how she would have loved it, but how she’s not here to enjoy it.

Normal is having some people afraid to even mention my daughter.

Normal is making sure that others remember her.

Normal is that after the funeral is over, everyone else goes on with their lives but we will continue to grieve our loss forever.

Normal is weeks, months and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.

Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you – it doesn’t compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.

Normal is trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.

Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.

Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.

Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but never having met any of them face to face.

Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.

Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food in the house.

Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have three children or two, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my daughter is in Heaven. Yet when you say you have two children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your daughter.

Normal is knowing I will never get over the loss, in a day or a million years. And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become “normal” for you to feel, so that everyone else around you will think you are “normal”.

Please think about your choices……Because when you choose to drink and drive, yours is not the only life that may be changed.

 

Perfectly Imperfect

IMG_0697Grief is instrumental to the  metamorphous of person, as a whole. So many things change in your life when you lose some one you love. Although  no loss is an easy one, as personally I have lost my father, stepmother and grandparents.  Sadly as heart wrenching as their deaths were there is no comparison to how my life has changed with the loss of Morgan. There is no possible way to describe what this life altering event does to you, or prepare you for the process it takes to find a new normal, especially when the process is as individual as the experience it self. This is why i continue to share this undertaking, for understanding on every level. For myself to reflect on, for those who are in a similar predicament, as well as people who simply wish to understand more.

In my journey over the last 17 months or 5 days shy of 17 months I have found that the one place i feel somewhat normal is when i am with others like me. This could be in a virtual support group, or a friendship, or honestly a stranger with a similar story. It is so hard to feel like an oddity or only feel “Normal” whatever that is, when you are among other s that belong to this club which no body wants to be a member of. You only feel a like you are not abnormal because others for similar reasons now live with broken hope of what their dreams once were, because their world was as well obliterated. I suppose to feel  comfort and normalcy when you are with those who are just as fragmented is conventional in many facets. Its just so hypocritical, you do not wish anyone else to ever live in the hell you are in, you do not want anyone to have felt this pain,but yet you gravitate to those that do because they get it.

I can say that I am learning to process the fact that nothing will every be the same, it will always hurt, it will never  completely heal. I am finding that i have been able to laugh a little more than months ago, I cry a little less and slowly am learning to move back into trying to be functionally productive. This is not saying I am any better than I was during the early months, it is just saying that I am adjusting  to function with the pain. I still feel like I am in quick sand and still seems like a lot of the time the fight to get out is not worth the emotional and physical exhaustion. On those days, I generally drop back five and punt, maybe  just try to stay under the covers until i feel strong enough to fight a bit more, whatever it takes.

I do grasp a lot more now, the proverbial light bulb has gone off, i am always going to be broken! I will never be whole, kind of  like a puzzle missing a piece or I suppose like a tea cup that the handle breaks off and is glued back together, its weaker and never the same, but can function. So at this point in this wicked game this is where i am and quite honestly it is what it is! I have learned that at any given day in the process of grief, the battles you fight change from moment to moment. In the beginning i guess you are going through the traditional stages if you will. As time goes on and you graduate into new challenges, you find that the things that hurt now are things you could not have fathomed when it first happened. When you bury your child the pain and shock are so intense that no one could have possibly prepared you for it! So as  time goes you learn to progress through those stages, and you may find that in some ways you come to terms with the fact that your baby is gone and not coming back. Than you at some point start to climb out of the rabbit hole to see that the world and life as you knew it, now has a completely contrasting view with  incompatible meaning. You now identify with different goals, hopes and dreams, because the ones you had before  are now a mirage. The depth of these goals , hopes, and dreams, may be  as little as getting out of bed and making your bed one day or as extreme  changing a career.  The metamorphous of grief  reprograms you to keep the focus of the obtainable idea that you are only in need do the best that you can at a single moment, nothing more nothing less as well as embrace the idea of your new normal to be as being perfectly imperfect!