Choices

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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.

 

The Walk

I have this friend who to me has always been the epitome of an itinerant. I have had the pleasure of knowing him for 25 years or more and never understood his way of life, sometimes even criticizing his choices because it was not what i inherently believed society has deemed to be that of the human norm.  In my eyes I had the perfect life, beautiful children, the monitory esthetics, and a husband who was the definition of a good man, and father. Life is complete, right? How could everyone not want that and strive for that?  I always felt that my friend must be missing out on so much, such as love, stability, security, instead it seemed as if he focused on the proverbial pipe dream. How can one believe that they will ever find solace in a life that is not grounded with the tradition of the set of sacraments we are engrained with for what “Life” should be? Maybe the answer is that there is no consolation in one place, especially for those whose soul are tortured. Whether it be grief, or feelings of inadequacy or purely that the expectations of who you are suppose to be has left you feeling as if your soul has been sucked out of you.  Maybe for some the pipe dream is just that a fallacy, for my friend this seems not to be the case.

Maybe my friend chose for his life style to be more of a journey than most will ever fathom, because he knew some where deep inside that for him to seek fulfillment was to break the tradition of what was expected. We as humans seem to instinctively bind ourselves with chains, but I believe we all  have a visceral part of our psyche that craves to see past what has for us become an abstraction of what should be our reality.  So I ponder and succumb to the ugly truth that my being is no longer what once was a life full of certainty and promise, it has pragmatically become something that is neither derivative nor dependent but more of an existence where I lack active strength of body and mind. I feel as if I am standing outside witnessing the suffering of a chronic illness that will enviably consume and  succeed with the demise of my soul.  I mean shit, one can only snuggle with your demons for so long…..Finding a new normal has been almost as exhausting as how i feel i came to be in my predicament, and I am so tired of trying to fit in to what the standards tell me i should do….So what is to be learned from this? I wish I had the answers, I wish i could whip up some witty smart ass thing to say, because we all weather our own storms and we would like to believe that the storm will run out of rain, but as of now I cannot say this….So what is left to do with a life that is not mine to take, continue the journey which may just start with a walk. Thanks for the book Peppi ❤

 walk

Unf*ck Your Life: A Guide for the F*cked

Okay before anybody judges a book by its cover in this case the title…….DO NOT!!!!

My journey thru this evil grief process has been one of many trials and errors, what I mean by this is that yet again, i must redundantly regurgitate the most paramount lesson one must learn in this process, there are no rules. Having no rules means that all the advice in the world cannot prepare one for how crippled and discombobulated their life will become with grief.  Looking back at some of my post, i see such emotions as hatred, love, anger, disbelief, loss of hope, honestly too many to list…Its like I am Cybil.

After 2 years and 6 months I am still struggling to live, you know, really live. I still feel as if I am slithering in quicksand, with no end in sight.   I know my life will and cannot ever be the old normal again, how could it be? My daughter’s life was brutally taken from me. I am however, still pressing forward with the hope of  to continue fighting tooth and nail in search of my new normal. I miss Morgan, more than I could have ever fathomed….after all this time, it still seems like yesterday and in no way has  gotten better nor easier, just different.  The bottom line is that it has been 2 years and 6 months and I have not given up, so there you have it, I have not given up.

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I strive to find ways to keep what is left of my sanity and find that like a new mother, one searches for information on how to start your life with a new child and be the best as your capabilities  in order to truly live and enjoy the best life has to offer. You take in and absorb all the advice and information like a sponge in hopes of giving not only yourself but your child the ability to embrace what it is to truly live and flourish.  Now as a grieving mother, i find this to be true again, and I search for a way to have the best quality of life someone in my predicament can have with hope of someday having a life  that  will be worth living again.

I want to share something with everyone that I hope in some facet of your life that may help you find a bit of personal solace. My brother sent me a link to a book called Unfuck Your Life: A Guide for the Fucked,  I was fascinated as well as intrigued by the title and found myself reading the writings of a man i now find brilliant and inspiring. I have found that his  in your face truth is a gospel of how to make changes to change ones life. Will it be the end to all bad in your life? Will it miraculously cure the ill? Probably not, but what my hopes of sharing it are that it will be something that is an inspiring tool for perseverance of a life worth living. I know I have nothing to lose  at this point and still grasp on to hope, and this blog gives me hope. My aspirations are that you find inspiration as well as hope in any or all of his writings…..I certainly have, and in a world where i rarely feel inspired, it feels damn good to feel stimulated. I hope you are stimulated as well: https://www.facebook.com/unfckyourlife

 

Chasing My Tail

It has been a long time since I have wrote on my blog. I have been working so much just to keep my mind clear and thought taking a step back from things would make the healing more easier. It has been 2 years 5 months and 2 days since Morgan was taken from me and contrary to popular belief it does not get easier. The pain is still there and it is hard to decipher if it changes anymore, it seems to become somewhat stagnate you just learn to live with the constant aching. I have said before that there is an immense difference between being alive and living. I still find that the demons lurk in the daylight as well in the darkness,  I can only compare this to a dark cloud that completely encompasses you and is your constant companion. No matter how much I throw myself into this farce of a life or self medicate or both at the end of the day there is still little hope of joy or a small glimpse of a ray of shining sun. Oddly enough the grieving parent has now become the disillusioned parent. You are like a dog that chases your tail, so determined, but no matter how hard you pursue, you never prevail. I get up, go to work, come home go to bed, try to sleep which still is a struggle, just to wake up and do it all over again.  I surmise that the mind set of chasing my tail could be presumed as a positive challenge in the sense that i am still hopeful, and still have enough determination  to continue with this wicked quest even though failure seems imminent.  Grief makes one do things that are sometimes just a sick form of mental mutilation similar to someone who cuts. You hurt so badly you become numb, so you cut to feel pain and bleed which reaffirms you are still alive. I do still crave and ponder the prospect that maybe i will learn to really live again. Until than I slowly travel with a feeling of cement bricks tied to my feet while trudging thru quick sand.

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I have seen better Days!!

fml-i-dont-know-like-sorry-text-Favim.com-363799Tomorrow I try once again to join the real world, as much as this is not my choice. I would much rather live like a gypsy and try to find the strength to find my way out of my darkness, and find my new normal. I walked away from my good paying job six months after Morgan was stolen from my life, I worked another job months after that, which i really enjoyed but found my emotional state was so unstable. I would be fine for a while and than something would set me off and I was unable to keep my composure. Its ironic to me that grief is not a medical condition as it is so debilitating, chronic, and unpredictable!  There is no cure, no quick fix, and it has vast effects on each individual! For me, it has been a life sentence!  It has changed me to the point, I have little interest in much! I have intermittent moments of steady weeks as well as momentary joy, and yet still have more of uncontrollable anguish! Little things that would not shake the average person, cripple me.

Financially I have no choice at this point to step back into the work force, I have an interview tomorrow and although I am so intrigued of the prospect of a new endeavor. I cannot find the excitement I need to prosper in it, its a survival thing! I have to do it if I want to remain with a roof over my head, but know it will not allow me to live, just exist. Maybe it is what it is as for the last 19 months, that is all I have done anyway! I ponder if I will ever truly find joy in anything again? I wish I had enough money to just float, and search for what my purpose is, but unfortunately I am not able to do that. Sometimes I get so pissed at people who are financially independent  and are so ungrateful!  Athletes, movie stars, performers for example make more money in one month than I could spend in a life time!…..I am not feeling sorry for myself, It just infuriates me that someone else chose this life for me….I heard yesterday from someone again, there must be a reason for Morgans death….I am so F#$cking tired of peoples ignorance!!!  I wanted to take their head in my hands and shake it till it fell off and than say “Well there is a reason for this?”

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Here is a reason my life is the way it is!!!  Two Kids  were given free will to be able to make stupid decisions, the parents involved were given free will to contribute and enable these two boys choices. The parents of some of the kids involved who were not in the accident were responsible for purchasing the alcohol for these delinquents to party. Honestly it would have been acceptable for this to happen, if  all the parents involved did not have their heads not up their asses and they made good choices to keep them home where they would not hurt anyone else or themselves.  So although the boys involved made dumb choices, their parents and the parents who bought the alcohol are the reason my daughter was murdered. These parents now can live with the fact that they murdered my daughter and caused the death of another…

So now, as they go about their merry way and continue the same patterns because they have obviously have not learned anything from their ignorance, I have to try to find a way to financially survive, while I am still in more pain than I ever imagined. I just for the life of me do not understand, why me and my family has to continually be punished for others choices. I hope for the strength to obtain this job tomorrow as well as keep on going with it…I am just struggling to find the power to be positive.

I tend to identify my feelings with music, because it reaches the deadness with in me, this song is how I feel and validates my writings today, some may say I need to move on, some may say I need to get over it but grief does not allow it to be so easy, I hope and pray that no one understands this despair, and for those that do. Keep on, Keeping on, you are maybe a select few but not alone, and my blog is for all of us.

days

It goes a little something like this

In my shoes my toes are busted,
My kitchen says my bread is molded,
I got a good job at the dollar store,
One foot in the hole, one foot gettin’ deeper,
with a broken mirror and a blown out speaker
And I ain’t got much else to lose.
I’m faded, flat busted;
I’ve been jaded I’ve been dusted.
I know that I’ve seen better days.
One foot in the hole, one foot gettin’ deeper,
Crank it to eleven, blow another speaker and
I ain’t got, I ain’t got much to loose
‘Cause

I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days and the bottom drops out.
I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days and the bottom drops out.

Now My cup’s filled up with five buck wine
I find myself here all the time
Another rip in the glass another chip in my tooth
Rained on I’ve been stained on
Found another goat I tried to put the blame on
And now I’m steppin on all the cracks
So I guess there ain’t no use
‘Cause

I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days and the bottom drops out.
I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days and the bottom drops out.

Woman: “Do you like my gucci bag?”

That’s beautiful, beautiful
Check it check it check it out,

I’m bent like glass second hand like glory,
Missed the bus but I’m in no hurry,
Molasses fast no business born,
One foot in the hole, one foot getting deeper,
Crank it to eleven, blow another speaker and
I aint got i aint got much to lose
‘Cause

I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days and the bottom drops out.
I’ve seen better days I’ve been star of many plays
I’ve seen better days,
I’ve seen better days,
I know that i’ve seen better days,
(the bottom drops out)
I’ve been the star, of so many plays,
(and the bottom drops out)
Walked on the edge with that hobo way.
(the bottom drops out)
‘Cause I know I know that I’ve seen better days
(and the bottom drops out)

Now I’m real thirsty…

(Sublime)

Frozen In Grief

timeOne of the difficult questions to answer is “How long will I be grieving?”

The process can go on for years, in some cases even a lifetime

The answer to this question is highly variable, depending on many factors including the type of loss, extraordinary circumstances surrounding the loss.  It also depends on an individuals coping skills and number of prior losses, and how those were handled.

Tragedies can be much more difficult to recover from quickly of at all depending on the nature of the tradgedy e.g unnecessary or accidental death, rape, loss through natural disasters, death during war-time, unnecessary acts of violence. These types of losses are the ones that lend themselves to counseling and seeking professional help to deal with the loss. Depending on the nature of the loss, it may be something that a person may never recover from, but one must learn how to incorporate the loss, learn what one can and move on.

Part of what needs to remember about grief and mourning, is that the same event experienced by many different people can affect individuals very differently. This is especially important within families, because certain members may be in different stages of the grieving process, go through the phases more quickly than others or stay stuck in certain phases for years  Anger, or Depression.

One needs to be mindful when dealing with others, that they will probably not be in the same stage as you are. Understanding the stages of grief and the grieving process can help deal with the hard feelings and the arguments that may arise from two individuals trying to communicate when in different stages

Grief

There is a grief that ages the face

and hardens the heart

yet softens the spirit

 

A grief that cast shadows on the eyes

yet broadens the mind

 

A grief that keeps the pain and has no words

But increases the understanding

 

There is a grief that breaks the heart and wounds the soul

That lasts and lasts and can shatter in a minute

But will inspire for a lifetime

I Grieve

it was only one hour ago 

it was all so different then 

there’s nothing yet has really sunk in 

looks like it always did 

this flesh and bone 

it’s just the way that you would tied in 

now there’s no-one home 

 

i grieve for you 

you leave me 

‘so hard to move on 

still loving what’s gone 

they say life carries on 

carries on and on and on and on 

 

the news that truly shocks is the empty empty page 

while the final rattle rocks its empty empty cage 

and i can’t handle this 

 

i grieve for you 

you leave me 

let it out and move on 

missing what’s gone 

they say life carries on 

they say life carries on and on and on 

 

life carries on 

in the people i meet 

in everyone that’s out on the street 

in all the dogs and cats 

in the flies and rats 

in the rot and the rust 

in the ashes and the dust 

life carries on and on and on and on 

life carries on and on and on 

 

it’s just the car that we ride in 

a home we reside in 

the face that we hide in 

the way we are tied in 

and life carries on and on and on and on 

life carries on and on and on 

 

did I dream this belief? 

or did i believe this dream? 

now i can find relief 

i grieve

 

-Peter Gabriel

 

Memories………..

27133_10151569061629246_1867344700_nI was sitting going thru some pictures of Morgan and ran across some videos that some of her friends had posted on YouTube, one which I had never seen….thought I would share…. 😥

Finding Beauty in Pain

I went to California on the first of this month, spending time with family and relaxing to the sound of the ocean, it is wonderful how therapeutic the ocean is for me. It gives me a sense of momentary peace and tranquility. Upon my return I felt rejuvenated as if my life for a moment was normal, the old normal. The first day I got home, I immediately felt angry, withdrawn, as well as the cloud of hopelessness returned. It is like being in the middle of a movie that you are so enthralled with that you can hardly  contain your excitement and than the movie pauses!

A few weeks back, I had ran into someone that said to me so you are all better now, and instead of explaining it doesn’t work that way when you lose a child I just smiled and said doing fine. I am better in so many ways, I find that my moments of bursts of energy to start a functional life are more common. But I am not okay, I am very numb and emotionless which quite frankly is not living with a  good quality of life. I just know that it is easier to not analyze the stages and phases anymore, rather just go with them. I have needed and craved a good cry for weeks now, not random teary moments, but a good cry, and yet I cannot!

Losing a child is the hardest thing that one can go through in my opinion, it lasting effects and pain, doesn’t ever go away. I was sitting at the park the other day by the water, just embracing the calm sound of  water running, when a limo pulled up and kids going to prom emerged to take pictures by the river. At first glance a girl in a bright pink dress was my Morgan, which turned into tears when i realized it was just hopefulness in my heart and mind to see her again. Things like that instance continue to trigger pain, as the things that bring “Normal” people joy turn the knife a little deeper in my heart.

As I look back at the first year with out Morgan, i see that my grief revolved around the accident and her death as well as justice! Well the biggest thing that has changed since than is I cannot change that the accident could have been prevented because no body stopped them! I cannot change that she is gone, because she is!  I cannot find justice for my Beautiful angel, because the people involved are spineless people with no moral compass, or conscious!  So now half way into the second year my struggle consist of  accepting that i have to live without her forever, facing that all the dreams for her and our families future have  been shattered. It is a whole new battle and really is so hard, such a different way that the emotions are displayed from how they did the first year. I feel like the first year at least I could express my grief, through tears, or depression, or how ever my emotions manifested. Now it is like i am floating waiting for my life to continue, and it seems as if peoples view is that I should be miraculously healed. There is no magic faith healer to chase away the grueling pain, I guess i just need people to understand, I am functioning without some times with no purpose, but functioning. I am not okay, I am different and require patience and understanding!

I think if I can find one thing once in a while that lets me smile, than i realize there is hope for some day to be able to be okay again, yesterday was my smile for the week!  My dear friend and one of Morgans dear friend and I revitalized her resting place, it was wonderfully hard work. It felt good to sweat and put physical energy into making something that is visually torture, into something of beauty. It is so ironic that you can find beauty within the pain!  I felt accomplished when we left the cemetery and saw how loved she is and always will be!

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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!

Happy Hippo

My Dearest Morgan Ray
For Months after you were taken away from us, your Dress from your Junior prom hung in the dinning room, a constant reminder of your beauty and your life. I think that we could not take it down, because with that went a part of you that we could not let go. A month or so ago, a friend and I lovingly packed up some of your belongings, it was so hard baby girl. I felt as if i was finalizing your life, which is not true. You are a part of me everyday and those that loved you.

After a lot of soul searching I decided that the dress too must come down, because i no longer saw good it in it, but anger and pain because you are gone. I am so Blessed Morgan to have people in my life that have helped me once again look at your dress with love and beauty that you represented….I hope you are proud of my choice for this, because now i can hold it in comfort and cherish its memory as much as i do you. I love you forever and a day baby girl, you will always be my heart, my soul, my daughter. ♥ 1234

This was not an easy decision for me, but i believe in my heart the right one. Looking at an empty dress made me feel as if I lost her all over again, it made me happy for the memories of that prom and that dress, but angry. I felt as empty as the dress, and wanted that feeling of joy back that i got while she wore it. Hippos were her favorite and to now see her dress in this way makes me feel close to her and her spirit. Its something I can hold forever, not just hang in a closet.

Thank You Sandy and Barb for helping me to keep my baby girl close to me ♥

hippo 2

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