Sunday, November 25, 2012

SO, we made it through Thanksgiving....

I cannot say it was good - because it wasn't.
I cannot say it was bad   - because it wasn't.
It just was...

It's funny - I have never felt like I had a close (or caring) family - not until Tash died.  But, I could not be more grateful for them this year.  They have come together - they have been super supportive - they have been what I always wanted - a family.

Maybe, it was livable because it was in a different place -there were different faces around the table.  Mainly, I believe I made it through because I just kind of convinced myself Tash wasn't gone - she was merely "away."  I know that is not a good thing - but, it made the day bearable.  We lit a candle in her memory.

I was only disappointed in myself about one thing.  I was too worried about what everyone else was thinking.  We had bought a candle and had the holder etched in memory of Tash.  We took it to the lake.  I had also took a picture of Tash from "her" table.  But, I never brought it inside the house - I was too afraid it would make everyone too uncomfortable.  Is that stupid?  I don't know.  Later, I had the horrible feeling of guilt - like I was ashamed of Tash.  But, that was not it.  I am just not sure enough of myself, I guess.  I don't want to make others feel bad.  I go around with a smile on my face for the same reason.

Oh, how I wish there was something to help me - to lead me - to tell me what I am SUPPOSED to do. 

I guess now I start preparing for Christmas - but, I don't want to - I still don't understand how this can be real - can this really be my life?

Wednesday, November 21, 2012

THANKSGIVING
 
Tomorrow is our first Thanksgiving without her - I am not sure what to say - how to act - what I am SUPPOSED to do. 
 
Tash loved Thanksgiving - family, green bean casserole, celery & cream cheese, and pumpkin pie.  She loved to play board games, watch movies, watch football, and listen to the stories of our family.  She was loud - she was boisterous - she was seldom without a smile - she was my daughter.
 
I had Tash when I was 15. I finished my childhood with her - I never lived as an adult without her.  I am trying to learn how - there are many days I don't want to know how.  This is one of those days....
 
I never thought this day would get here - it's a dreaded day.  When I started writing tonight, I was thinking I had prepared pretty well - I was optimistic - I had kept myself busy - spent time with my family and friends this week - and, even though, I was sad, I felt prepared to face the day.  Since then, the drama has started, plans have started to fall apart, and the disappointments have begun - and, I don't know that I can deal with it.  My initial plan was to stay in bed - under the covers - and give a big middle finger to the holiday.  Right now, I am so sorry I changed my plans.  I don't even know what to say - what to do - how to react.  It's begun - and, it's worse than I thought it would be.
 
I read that the anticipation was actually worse than the holiday.  I disagree - there's an equality to the suckage.  I just want Tash back - I want to hear her voice - feel the dry skin of her hands - feel her lips on my cheek - run my fingers through her hair - hear her giggle.....I guess I just want everything I cannot have.  I don't want turkey...pumpkin pie...family stories...football...I only want what I cannot have.


Thursday, November 15, 2012

THANKSGIVING...

I cannot believe that next week is Thanksgiving.  It doesn't see possible that I haven't heard her voice since January - haven't hugged her - haven't touched her.  But, then again, it feels like yesterday.  Last week, I was listening to advice from other bereaved parents about the holidays.  The one thing that they kept saying over and over was: DO NOT PRETEND YOUR WAY THROUGH THE HOLIDAYS.

I hadn't even realized that was an option.  But, after thinking about it, I figured out that was exactly what my plan was to get through the hard days ahead.  I was not doing it consciously, but, I was still doing it. SO, now, that I realize it, it is a new kind of hurt. 

I have made a list that I will use to get me through the holidays - it will not be easy.  It will make it so much more real that she is never coming back - that's what these holidays will do.  I will do my best to get through them and remember her.  I will find a way to honor her memory and keep her name alive in the minds of others.

- I have bought a candle and will burn it at family get-togethers - it is beautiful, like Tash and etched with a special saying and her name.
- I will adopt a couple of children for Christmas and give them gifts in Tasha's name.  (She will still be making a difference.)
- I am making a lot of gifts this year and my Christmas cards - to keep my hands busy and my mind occupied.
- I am going to take 20 minutes for myself every day.
- Most importantly, I will work VERY hard to keep my should have's & ought to's to a minimum.

My plan is longer - but, these are the things that I will start with for now.  I think that is all we can do as bereaved parents - a little bit at a time, one step at a time, one day at a time and when those things are too much, we can back up and take it one second at a time. 

Sunday, October 14, 2012

Grieving God's Way


 

Grieving God's Way: The Path to Lasting Hope and Healing


Grieving God’s Way:








The Path to Lasting Hope and Healing by Margaret Brownley
Margaret Brownley uses what she has learned through her own journey of grief to help others that follow the same path.  After losing her son, Brownley lost her way.  Brownley, who has written more than twenty novels, found herself unable to write – thus, she began her journey.  Knowing how the way the bereaved mind works, she divided her writing into four sections.  This book, a 90-day devotional, is perfect for the grieving heart, leading the reader to begin to find hope after loss.
After losing my own daughter in January, I was looking for answers when I picked up this book.  As I was reading, I felt that I had finally found someone that completely understood what I was going through at the time.  The small sections were perfect for my new shortened attention span.  Writing as someone who has been through this process, Brownley gave names to my feelings, allowed me to know that I was not alone and certainly not the only one to feel these things after losing a child.  Combining scriptures, haikus, explanations and examples for each day, Brownley provides something for each individual to companion with the steps of grieving.  I have read many books on grief.  However, this one proved to provide the most insight for me.  I find myself referring back to many passages often, and referring friends who have also suffered a loss to read this incredible guide through the most unimaginable pain.
 I received this book free from the publisher through the BookSneeze®.com <http://BookSneeze®.com> book review bloggers program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255

Tuesday, October 2, 2012

I am trying to learn to be thankful again - do you know how hard it is to be thankful when your only child has died?  When you have no idea what you are even here for?  But, as always, my response remains the same: "I'm trying."

I am also trying to keep a journal full of things I am thankful for - many days, I just stare at the blank page and cry.  But, some days, I am successful - today, I am successful.

I am thankful that somehow I have the ability to get up every morning.  I am able to do so without physical pain and I do it.  I am not always happy when it happens, but, I realize that just being able to get up every morning - and to do so without pain - is definitely something to be thankful for.

Yesterday, I was told my life could get better if I tore down the walls that surround me - but, I was also reminded that I have often put my heart into the hands of people that are not very trustworthy.  My job for the week is to try to figure some of that out.  And, as always, I AM TRYING...

Monday, October 1, 2012

Grief is the boulder you can never put down
It is the thought that never let's your mind rest
It's the unanswered question that keeps you up at night
It's the robber of all your dreams.

Monday, September 17, 2012

WHO AM I?

That's the killer question of the day.  And the answer is:
I HAVE NO IDEA

I am a daughter, a sister, a friend, a cousin, a MOTHER
But now, I am a childless mother -
soo am I really a mother?
It's all I ever wanted to be
I struck out with two sets of parents who never wanted me
At the very least, it seems that I should be entitled to create a family and be some one's mother
To give her the love I never had
To love her in ways I never was
Even though, I never had that, I knew I could do it
But it wasn't enough
I couldn't save her - my love was not enough
So, now I am left to figure out who I am
And, the truth is I don't know
and the REAL truth is that maybe I don't want to know
I ONLY wanted to be Tasha's mom
FUCK THE REST

Sunday, September 16, 2012

I started an entry last week on my birthday - but the page stayed blank - no words would come.  It has been the same everyday. I think about what to write - but, as soon as I sit down at the computer, nothing comes - and the fucking blinking cursor taunts me.  I do what I do best - I sit and I stare.

Time brings no peace - no relief - whoever said that is a liar - or never had a kid die.  I don't believe that it gets better - I believe you learn how to hide the pain better.  I believe you become a better actor.

Someone said to me: "I have never really seen you cry, except at the funeral and at the balloon release."  I started to correct her - but, then, I thought, let her believe that.  I cry EVERY day - in eight months, I have had one day where I did not cry.  I am sure that I will have a second - a third - and so on - but, I don't know when they will come.  You have a kid die and everyone starts talking about how strong you are.  What makes you strong?  I am not strong - I am on my knees - I just do what I have always done: put my botox face on and work on saying an doing nothing that would make anyone uncomfortable.  That's me - never being myself - no one ever knowing who I am - just me going through the motions.

There was another phrase I heard last week: "It's so good to see you out and about."  What? I'm a hermit?  Am I not supposed to be out?  I was immediately taken aback - thinking, am I not supposed to be out?  Should I be grieving more?  Am I not grieving enough?  Do people think I don't care?  AM I DOING THIS RIGHT???

If anyone is reading this, I am sorry - it's not really making sense - it's kind of a stream-of-consciousness thing - I just had to conquer the blank page tonight - I promised myself.  I don't follow through on many things any more, but, I am trying.  Until tonight, I really thought my block came because of my birthday, but, in all honesty, it came because of an assignment that my therapist gave to me.  I sat down to do the assignment and I couldn't.  The assignment:  While looking at a picture of my younger self, write a letter to her.  At first, she said to make it positive - but, at the end of our hour, I told her I couldn't - so, now, the assignment has changed to writing her a letter about how shitty her life will be.  But, I just have not been able to do it.  I told myself I would not write anything - a column, a review, a blog - until I finished the assignment.  Therefore, I have written nothing.  When I look at the picture, I do not see me-I see a little girl who is innocent - who has her whole life in front of her.  How can I possibly write a letter to her, telling her what her life will be like?  That she will never have parents that care about her?  That she will never be able to create the family she will dream of?  That everything will end up in disappointment and that no matter how hard she works, she will end up alone...sad...destroyed.

I guess that is what stopped me - the fact that this girl is me - and I am her - and that is where I started and this is where I end - it just seems too awful to put pen to paper and let it all be real...

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Do you have any idea what it feels like to finally realize you will never share another Christmas with your only child?

I hope you never do.

Monday, August 27, 2012


The most common thing I hear these days is: "You are so strong."  But, I AM NOT!!!  I am not strong - I am barely surviving.  If people only knew just how weak I am, I think they would be shocked.

I am strong when they are here - I am a caretaker - it has always been my job to make everyone else comfortable.  I am still trying to do that. 

I tell people I am okay - let's talk about them.  In other words, I continue to sweep my pain under the rug, letting others take up residence in my brain with their problems - their issues.  That is something they can talk about for days.  Heck, who I am I kidding?  They can talk about anything, as long as they don't have to talk about my dead daughter.

It's not hard for me to say: "I love you."  I have always said those words - especially to my daughter and to my husband.  But, I also try to say it to my students who need someone to  love them.  However, since Tash died, I try to tell everyone that I love - I want to tell them every time I talk to them - I NEED them to know - just in case...

It is a little harder to say: "I am sorry."  But, I can do it.  In fact, I can do it, even when I am not really sorry.  When people ask if I have children, and I tell them the truth, they react with horror, and I apologize TO THEM.  But, why am I sorry?  Because they are uncomfortable?  Because I brought down their day a little?  WHY AREN'T THEY SORRY???  After I say my daughter died, they cannot make eye contact with me any more - they cannot wait to get away - so with promises of a follow-up phone call and a lunch date, they flee as fast as their feet will carry them.  They make sure to hit the ground running, hoping that what I have is not contagious and that my "bad luck" has not rubbed off on them.  But, I see it - as soon as the words escape my mouth, I see their eyes begin to dart back-and-forth, looking for the escape hatch.  But, I let them go - sad, knowing I am more alone, but, knowing the only way to make them see is to bring them sadness or lay on the guilt.  So, I let them go.

But, the impossible words for me to speak are: "Help me" or "I need help."  I just can't do it - I don't care that people would see my weaknesses - maybe, they wouldn't say how strong I was - but, I don't care about that.  I just don't know how to ask for what I need.  I love all those people who tell me to call if I need anything - if they only knew the anxiety that I feel if I even THINK about picking up the phone to call anyone.  I cannot ask for help - I cannot answer my door - I cannot even make a choice between paper and plastic.  I don't know why it's so hard to ask for help - but, it is so hard to make it through each day - and, I just don't know what to do.  I guess, on one hand, I am afraid if I seem to needy, it will scare people away - but, I am also afraid they will stay!  Make sense?  No, I know it doesn't - but, not much in my world - or in my head - makes sense any more. I wish I knew how to make sense of any of this.  But, I do know now what to do when any of my friends and/or family go through trauma - I will not wait for them to ask for help - I will help - I will hold their hand - I will have tissue ready and listen to them cry - I will mention their loved one's name often - I will sit with them and listen to the silence.  This is really all we need from our friends and family as we grieve - I don't know why, but, it still seems like it is too much to ask for.

I am not strong - I am a mess - I don't mind that people think I am strong - but, I sometimes wish that they knew the truth - or at least, really cared enough to find out.

Sunday, August 26, 2012


Tash LOVED Halloween!  She also loved working at Howl-O-Scream.  I was never sure why - but, as she got older, I have a feeling it was because she could hide.  Once she had on her costume and make-up, no one could see the side effects of all she had been through - the scars that she had on every part of her body except for one arm and one leg.  She was no longer the sick girl - she was bad-ass - the girl w/attitude.  SHE WAS SCARY!  And, nothing could scare her!


Who would have ever thought that this girl had to be hooked up to a machine six days a week to live?  She loved that time of the year more than any other.  After she died, all these people that she had worked with for the last five years showed up. They loved her - and, I understood why she loved them and her job.  These people accepted her and they loved her.  I am happy she had that for those years - and, I wish I had been more involved in that part of her life. 

But, I dread this time of year, now, as much as she loved it.  For this is the time of year she loved most.  She always found that lost energy - recovered her zest - and her love for life.  Tash always had a smile on her face, but, it was never bigger or brighter than it was the time that she worked at Howl-O-Scream every year.  That wasn't always true - but, in the last few years, with her health being her main focus, it became true - her only escape from the disease and its limitations. 

It's amazing - and terrible - how one death can create so many losses.  Even as you try to tally them up, there is no way to do it because something always pops up unexpectedly and creates a new offshoot to the already long and horrifying list.  There are all the lost days - the weddings, the birthdays, the holidays - the things you expect - but, then, there comes along the days that just made her happy - the thrill that you could hear in her voice when she made it through auditions - the laugh of when she tried on her "costume" for the season - and the look on her face in the pictures that she sent (even though, she was not supposed to) when they did her make-up for the first time. 

I really just don't know - I really don't - there just seems to be so much lost - and I am finding more things every day.  I try to think of all that she gained through her death - peace, no pain, eternity - but, I just don't know that it is enough to get me through the days that continue to come - maybe later...but, not right now...

Sunday, August 19, 2012


Birthdays....Tash loved her birthday.  She could never just celebrate one day - it had to be about a week.  I had never had the heart to tell her "no."  I sometimes wonder if things would be different now if I had set more limits then.  But, how could I?  For all she went through, she deserved that and more.

My idea here was to upload pictures from different years - but, I cannot bring myself to go through pictures yet.  It just hurts too bad.  Tash loved to go through old pictures and could sit for hours - it wouldn't take long before I would get caught up in it and be on the floor "wasting time" going through stacks of pictures with her.  I have so many regrets , but, that "waste of time" is never one of them. 

But, I do have guilt....so much guilt...

Everyone says I was a great mom - but, what do they REALLY know???

Guilt is a heavy bitch - a monkey always on my back - and, I am not really sure that will ever change.

Does it matter if it's self-inflicted or if it is real?  Does that change ho you feel?  I have heard it said that one's perception is his truth.  Never has this been more true than now - as I fight the heaviest, most relentless beast there is - GUILT.  No one else has to judge us after the death of our child - we will do it all - I could have done more - I should have done more - why didn't I see?  This list could go on for pages - it is a roller coaster ride that dumps us bereaved parents into the depths of despair - farther and farther until not even a microscopic speck of light is left.  It is guilt, more than any other feeling, that squeezes our hearts at night and places that weight on our chest, so heavy and so dense that it is difficult to even take half a breath.

There were so many things I could have done differently - and, no matter what anyone says, I know it is true - and, it is a FACT that she would be here if I had done things differently.  My counselor says that is a normal feeling and most grieving people go through it - but, for me, it is true.  I decided to make 2011 a different kind of year - to do more for me - to force Tash to become more independent - she was 27 - time to grow up, I thought.  I put some space between - space that had never been there.  I wanted her to be independent - I mean, I wanted her to need me and want me - but, to the exclusion of being able to do for herself.  I didn't want to enable her - we had always been so enmeshed - it was time to have a healthier relationship.  But, it was the wrong time.

Saturday, August 11, 2012

(Tasha floating in the pool in 2010 - still had her perma-cath - so she couldn't get all the way in the water - but, she always had her chair.  Tash loved the pool and it really sucked to have that cath for almost 8 years and not be able to get into the water.)

All the pain - for what?

I continue to hear that there is a reason for everything - but, I still do not understand what all Tash's pain and suffering was for - I still do not understand what my suffering is for.  Tash suffered so much - and she deserved a break - is death her break?  It is certainly not mine - I miss her so much - and I just think continually of all the things I won't get to see her do.

All parents want to give their children a better life than they had growing up.  That was never truer than in my case.  But, the cards were stacked against me from the beginning.  That stupid kidney disease was present from the beginning - but, we never thought it would affect her.  After all, most people didn't even experience symptoms until their 40s.  But, as with everything else, we were not to experience what as typical.  Puberty sped up Tash's kidney failure - but, we never let it slow us down.  Should I have let it?  Did I push too hard?

December 10, 1999 - Transplant day.  We were never worried - never scared.  Should we have been?  Probably.  But, we just went in there like it was matter-of-fact and we had decided to kick its ass.  And, we did.  We had avoided dialysis and we sailed through the transplant.  There were a few hiccups after that - but, they were few and far between.  Six months to the day after the transplant, Tasha participated in the Transplant Games - kicking ass in track and winning 2 medals.  She even stepped outside her comfort zone, participating in the swimming competitions.  There were terrible side effects from the meds - we all hated them - Tash most of all.  But, she never let them stop her.  She kept her tears private from the world - I held as she cried - and fought my own tears in the process.  It was NOT fair.  It is awful the way an illness can come in and destroy a person, while taking away their pride and dignity.  But, we pressed on, and by the fall, Tash was back on the soccer field, active in church, and busy behind the scenes in the drama department.  She was amazing!  (I am not sure I told her that enough!)

She finished high school - got accepted into one of her top college picks - Florida State University.  At 17, my baby went away to college.  We were all so happy - the side effects were fading - we hadn't had any scares in a while - she was happy - life was good.

But, only for a while - we will never know why - but, Tash's kidney - MY KIDNEY - started to fail.  By the time we could get all the lab work together and the doctors to communicate, it was too late - the kidney was lost.  Now, we would really learn what hell was.  There would be no more sailing through - there would be no easy days - and kicking ass - this kidney disease was now going to turn our lives upside down and kick our ass.

This was to take my beautiful, confident girl who had already endured so much, and ravage her body, wreck her happiness, and leave us in fear for the next nine-and-a-half years of her life.  I fought for her - God knows I fought for her - I cried myself to sleep at night - but, during the day, I fought.  I became as educated about the kidney, the disease, dialysis, the meds, etc. as any nephrologist.  While Tash was hooked up to that dreaded machine that we had fought so hard to avoid the first time around, I read, I researched, I questioned the doctors and the nurses.  When she was awake, I worked my ass off to make her life as normal as possible - we played games, we talked on the long car rides back and forth to the hospital, we shopped - all the while, I was watching my baby girl disappear into the medical procedures and practices that would eventually weaken her body to the point where the will to fight became non-existent.

The rest of the story is long - but, it does deserve to be told - and it will be - eventually.  The story ends on January 7, 2012.  I still feel as if my own life ended on that day as well.  I fight - I try - but, I know the truth about how much that truly helps - in the end, it did not help Tash at all.  She suffered for nothing - and, I pushed her - "Keep fighting," I said - BUT, FOR WHAT???  It makes no sense to me now - I try to understand - but, I don't and I don't know if I ever will.

It's just another Saturday night, crossing off another week she has been gone.  I want to continue to tell her story - but, that is enough for the night.  For now, I want to look at her pictures and remember...

And, yes, I know (thanks for the emails reminding me) that I haven't talked about her birthday - it just seems that every time I start, I cannot finish - I am not ready - but, soon...


Monday, August 6, 2012

So, I am struggling with what to share the last couple of days...her birthday changed everything for me - some good - mostly bad.  But, I am working on it - been blogging a lot - but, "private blogging."

I am still here...that could be the good news...or the bad news...depending on how you look at it.   But, I am only going to go with the good for now...the bad will still be there tomorrow...

The good is that I took another step out of my comfort zone - I signed up for the Susan G. Komen 3-day walk - yep, that is 60 miles!  But, I am doing it - to honor Tash - to do something else she never got to do - something we never got to do together.  I am also doing it to honr my niece, DeDe - who is kicking cancer's ass.  I have known a lot of hard asses - but, these ladies are not hard - they are tough!  And, I am proud to be able to do this in their honor.

I walked my first 10 miles yesterday - the beginning of my practice walks.  I am pretty sure I can do it - not easily - but doable.

If you want to check in, see my progress, or even make a donation toward my $2,300 goal, please visit my personal page:

http://www.the3day.org/site/TR/2012/TampaBayEvent2012?px=6713855&pg=personal&fr_id=1770

It is an in-progress page - so check back as I get it set up!

Tomorrow, I think I am ready to talk about Tasha's birthday...a little...

Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Balloon Release - Clearwater, Florida

Today was another hard day - BUT, I MADE IT THROUGH!!!  I never thought that would happen.  I am not sure if it is a good thing or bad thing.  But, I made it.

I look at the pic from the balloon release and find more reasons to be proud of Tash - she was able to touch so many lives.  There were balloon releases in at least five states today - people honoring the memory of my great girl.  I think Tash would be surprised at the number of people who continue to support her and honor her.  I think that if she knew how many people truly loved her and cared about her, she would have fought harder to be here.

There is not much to say tonight - not much more emotion left - I guess I wanted to write a little because I know all the grieved parents worry so much about the birthdays and the holidays - I did, too - I never thought I would make it through today - but, I wanted other parents to see that I did and that if I can, so can they...

Goodnight...one more happy birthday to Tash - I love you and miss you...as does your grown-up puppy, Prince!




Monday, July 30, 2012



It's finally here - the day I have dreaded for the last 206 days - Tash's 28th birthday - her first in heaven - our first without her.  I am not really sure how I should feel - what I should do.  This was the day I promised to meet her - but, I am still here.  Is that the right decision?  The best decision?  I don't know - and I don't know what that decision will bring.  More guilt?  Perhaps.

I worry about Tash understanding.  Is she okay with me staying here a little longer?  We talked about that in counseling a lot today.  Am I worried that she needs me?  Or, could it be for the first time, she doesn't need me?  Has it become more about me than about her?  Of course, like most of my other questions, there are no answers to these questions either. 

I wish that I could say that I have come to the conclusion that I have decided to live.  But, that's not true - I have decided to live for now  I have decided that I have things to finish and a husband to take care of - for at least a little while longer. 

A sign - that is what I want - what I wish for - just something to know that I am making the right decision.  And, I will wait for it a little bit longer....

But, for now, this is the day of her birth - NATASHA COURTNEY KNOBEL was born on July 31, 1984 - it was a Tuesday - ironic that the first birthday that she is not here to celebrate is also on a Tuesday - which means, that 5 Tuesday's from now, we will be "celebrating" my birthday - another first - another milestone without Tash - it will be the first birthday in I don't know how many years that I won't receive a phone call and hear her singing "Happy Birthday" to me. 



This is just from one year ago - Tash's 27th birthday.  We went parasailing and stayed out at the beach.  It was the first time we had taken her dialysis machine on a "trip."  It was sort of a trial run.  It is funny that we were staying at the beach - Tash had never been much of a fan of the beach.  But, it was her choice - and, she chose the beach.  True to form, when the water splashed her in the face and the waves overpowered her little body, out came the chin and the lip moved into the pout position.  We laughed so hard at her - which made her laugh as well.  We were so "busy" relaxing that we didn't take many pictures that long weekend.  I am really sad about that.

Back in the room, Tash worked studiously to hook up her dialysis machine - setting everything up just so - she soo desperately wanted to impress her dad with what she had learned during her training - how competent she was - and, wouldn't you know?  Something went wrong.  We tried to be quiet about it - we didn't want "him" to know something was going wrong.  But, finally, we had to admit it - something was wrong and we didn't know how to fix it.  So, admitting defeat, we asked dad to help us out.  He did a "little" grumbling as he set about to help us - and, OF COURSE, he found what we had missed - one clamp on one hose had kept the machine from running.  UGH!  How we both hated that!

But, we were off!  It was fantastic!  Not only could Tasha dialyze at home, now, we could take it on the road.  We talked about cruises - returning to Holland - what we would do for the next birthday - the one we would never get to celebrate.  That makes me so sad.  But, when I think about last year's birthday, I remember so many good things - we had such a good time. 

Because the weekend at the beach was the weekend after her actual birthday, we had a birthday dinner at Joe's crab Shack.  If you have an iPhone, you know about four-square.  Well, Tash decided to complete every question to earn every point - to earn every free thing she could possibly get.  She was driving her dad crazy, borrowing his phone to complete another task.  We took pictures, she hugged the waitress, she rode a stick pony through the restaurant, she did the scavenger hunt - but, it was funny - and, we have some great pictures and some even greater memories that will last forever. 

NOW, we work on her foundation as we face this birthday of hers alone.  There are no more family celebrations, holidays - there never will be a wedding, grandchildren, and there will be no more special shared moments.  We are alone, trying to find meaning - trying to answer the WHY'S - trying to make our way with a family that has lost its center, its soul.  We work to do what would make her proud - to build a foundation that does things that Tash would like - to build something she would be proud of - to celebrate her life - and all she meant to so many people.  For if we do not do something that honors and celebrates her life, then how we can justify all her suffering and pain???  There must be a reason to go on - to get up - to live again - I am not sure what it is yet - but, I am hopeful that one day - one morning - I will wake up in the morning and think: "There is a reason to get up today..."


If you are interested in seeing how we are working to put together a foundation in her honor or would like to be a part of it, please visit her foundation's Facebook page:
 www.facebook.com/TashasGiftInc

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Her birthday... In just five days, it will be Tash's birthday - her first birthday that she'll miss. I cannot seem to get my mind off of it - it is consuming my every waking moment. How will I cope? What will I do? What should I do? I am not sure there is a right answer to this question. You see, I had a plan. I thought it was the right one - but, now, I am not so sure. I promised Tash I would meet her on her birthday. I have spent the last six months getting ready to keep that promise. I have talked about it with my counselor for hours - I have talked about it with husband for hours, trying to make him understand that it doesn't mean that I love him any less - it's just that I think Tash needs me more. And, I cannot even begin to count the hours that I have put in with organizing her stuff, setting up the foundation, trying to clean up and organize my own things. I do not want to leave Hans a mess to deal with. But, no matter how hard I have worked, I have not finished everything I need to do. My counselor reminds me that I promised to meet her on her birthday, BUT, I didn't say it would be THIS birthday. But, I feel like Tash knew I meant this birthday - how can I break this last promise to her? There are so many opinions on this - but, no facts. Some say that Tash would be happy in heaven - would harbor none of the negative earthly feelings. I am still not so sure I can believe that. Others say that she doesn't need me now - that God has her in his hands - her body is restored - and, that though, time seems to crawl by for me, it is but a blink of an eye for her until we are together again. Still, I'm not so sure. There are those of the opinion that if I take my own life, I will go to hell and will not be with Tash. I do hate the people that would tell me that Tash would want me to move forward and live a happy life. I just call BULLSHIT on that. That is not the Tash I know. I guess I just don't know what to do any more. I think I am ready to make a decision - I think I am okay staying here a little longer - finish the job of being Tash's mom - getting all her stuff done and organized. But, what if I am wrong? There is already so much guilt. How can I risk breaking this last promise to her? I just don't know. I read every book I can - I try to reason through it - but, what it all comes down to is that I just don't know what to do. And, there is no one left to ask. I have five days to make a decision - 5 days to determine what the right thing to do is. I wish I could have a poll - what would the world think if I employed survey monkey for this and sent a copy to everyone I know? I miss Tash so much - I just don't know how long I can live here without her and I don't know how long I want to -

Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Yesterday, I wrote to Tash - extolling the limitless list of "why's." Today, I am reading the book 90 Minutes in Heaven, and begin the chapter: "The Why Questions." This man died for ninety minutes, went to heaven and recounts his story - painting a glorious picture of heaven - and, now, he puts his story on paper to share with the rest of us. I get so mad at all the unanswered questions that swirl through my days and wreak havoc on my nights. But, here is this man of God, so secure in his faith and about his experience, and he still has questions. It's a sobering thought - I often feel that if my faith was stronger, I would have fewer questions - but, maybe that is not true. This man, Rev. Piper, talks about heaven in such a way that it almost makes me believe that Tash would be happier there, and would give no thoughts to my time here on earth without her. BUT, I AM STILL NOT SURE. If I died first, I would want her to stay here and be happy - continue her life and live to the fullest. That is the natural order of things. I am not sure it works the other way. Tash always wanted to be with me - hated me to be happy when she wasn't with me - was jealous of the time I spent with others. Sooooo, would she really want me to be happy without her? I just don't think so - I think she would want me to be with her. And, I am torn - I want be here with Hans - but, I want to be with Tash. I want to see her - hear her voice - hold her - see her restored. I still feel like she needs me. Am I wrong? Is it only my need that I am acknowledging? Is it selfish to want her back - even as she was - with pain - the dialysis - the waiting - the surgeries? I can't help it - I just don't think it should be this way - there has to be a reason for all her suffering - it surely couldn't have all been for nothing. What could be the purpose in that? I just feel like I know that she wouldn't have wanted to leave me - that she would want me with her. How does one move past that to live a life here? My life will never be normal - there is no chance that I will ever be happy again. All my life, all I have ever wanted was family and happiness and now both have been stripped from me in a single moment. So, what do I do? Stay and continue to live for the convenience of others? Go and rest with my baby, while relishing her new, healthy, restored body? Oh, Tash - this is an impossible decision - I don't know how to live without you - and, more importantly, I don't want to. I can't! My heart is broken into a million little pieces and I just don't know how to live this way. How can I do this? Why would I want to? I dreamed of a family my whole life - to make up for the lack of family I had growing up - I was only lucky enough to have one child - my Tash - it wasn't my dream of a big family - but, it was my perfect family. Now, that is gone, too. I have no parents - I have no children - I have become less than a nobody - with no purpose. I have done nothing to leave a legacy in this world - I have no reasons to get up in the morning - I have no reason to save things - no one to give them to - no one to care about the things I have collected, the pictures I have taken - I just live in a house full of treasures for an anonymous estate sale one day. I have lived for naught - the why's don't matter - only my broken heart matters - the soul that bleeds for my lost child - I'm just nobody now. I'm Nobody! Who are you? by Emily Dickinson I'm Nobody! Who are you? Are you – Nobody – too? This is the new story of my life. I fought so hard for our lives - for her life - now there is nothing to fight for....

Monday, July 23, 2012

Dear Tash, As always, I am really missing you tonight. After six months without you, I still have the same questions I had the night you left me. Most of them start with the same word: "Why?" - Why did you leave me? - Why did you have to go through everything you went through? - Why wasn't I a better mother? - Why didn't I call you that day? - Why didn't I know the truth about all you were going through? - Why did you go to the hospital January 1? - Why didn't you fight harder? I miss you so much - I just cannot believe how much time has passed since you died. I cannot believe that I continue to wake up - to breathe - without you here. A parent should never outlive her child. I, especially, should not be here without you. You were my best friend - my everything. It is only through your birth that my life began to have meaning. I cannot even begin to list the things I miss about you. I wanted to write you a letter, telling you all that I missed about you, but, no matter how much I tried, I just couldn't get the list together. Mostly, I miss just knowing you are here. I know it would shock you, but, I really miss your phone calls. As much as I hate talking on the phone, I regret every minute I rushed you off the phone and every call I missed. I should have listened better - taken it all in - and enjoyed that time together. Even when you called me eight times a day, I should have been happier to hear the ring of the phone. The silence of that ringer now breaks my heart - I would give anything for one more call. Although, we both know, it was only a couple of weeks ago when I received such a call - but, I'm not ready to share that with the world just yet. I miss the sound of your voice - talking - giggling - even crying. I find myself listening for it - still expecting to hear it. I call your phone and wait for your voice mail. When it finally picks up, my heart skips a beat when I hear your voice - it's almost like having a little piece of you back - but, then my heart realizes it is not to be. It is just the recording of your sweet voice - making a promise to call me back - a promise you will never be able to keep. I miss your face - every pore - every freckle - even your little chicken pox scar. Those beautiful brown eyes with the little green specks - so expressive - no matter what you were feeling, you could never hide it - even if you tried - not if I could see your eyes. You know those cheeks you hated? I miss them - oh my gosh, how I miss them! Your little nose - so much like mine - it was perfect - no one else can carry that little perky nose - the one that matched your personality. And, that mouth - all that mouth on that little body. What I wouldn't give for the opportunity to run my finger across those lips once more - one more kiss - just one more...but, we all know it's not to be. Even through two bouts of braces, you still had that little space between your teeth. But, what a smile you had - it lit up your whole face - and my world. Oh, Tash, there are so many things I miss - this short list doesn't even begin to start the list. I miss so many things - I always wonder if you really knew how loved you were - how loved you are. I know I was hard on you last year, pushing you toward that independence you needed - but, I didn't want to push you away. I wanted you to be strong - as you were closer to graduating, gaining a stronger hold on independence. I was so proud of you - watching you get stronger - watching you get your shit together. You were almost there - and, now you are gone - and I just feel like instead of pushing you toward Independence, I should have been holding you close - relishing in every minute we had together. I never thought that, in the end, you would lay down, close your eyes, and leave me. I thought this was our year - a year to celebrate - your independence - your graduation - a new job - possibly, a new kidney. Instead, I'm left here alone, asking all the questions that I have no answers for. Tash, I love you - I'm trying to learn to do this without you - I would say I am failing miserably - I think you might have taken everything good with you when you left. I miss you - and, I'm still not sure what you would want me to do - 8 more days - I need some answers. MOM

Sunday, July 22, 2012

28 weeks.... I cannot believe it has been 28 weeks since I have seen you - held you - heard your voice. It never gets easier. I still look for you every where - hoping for answers that never come. A weird thing happened yesterday... One thing I am scared of is a loose dog. Yesterday, while I was running, I saw a big, white, fluffy dog running toward me. I crossed the street and looked to see where the dog was - IT WAS GONE! It was as if it had never been there - it couldn't have just disappeared. At the time, I wondered if I was having some kind of heat stroke. But, as I rounded the corner, where I would have been running if I hadn't crossed the street to get away from the "white dog," stood two big dogs who were not too happy to see me. But, their owner was able to call them back. Had I not crossed the street, I would have run right into them and their owner wouldn't have been able to call them back. So, what was the white dog? A warning? A premonition? Tash? I sometimes think I am crazy and making up things to make it seem like it's Tash and not just coincidence. I just don't know. There seem to be so many "coincidences," that they seem more like "on purposes." I want to think it was Tash warning me - protecting me. How do I know what's real? What's not real? I wish I knew what to believe. I sometimes feel as if Tash is so close and other times, I feel lost without her and like I will never have contact again. Tash's birthday is in eight days and I am still not sure what to do - what she would want me to do. There are always so many more questions than answers. If your only child died, what would you want to do? That's what I want to ask everyone. I feel so lost - so without purpose - I don't know what I am supposed to do - how I am supposed to live. I feel like I walk around in a daze - putting on an act of being okay whenever anyone is around - giving them what they want/need. But, what about what I want and need? I don't even know what those things are. There is no feeling more isolating than grief. I miss being a mom - I miss Tash.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

I'm sad...

That is all there is to it - I am sad with no relief - just trying to fake it everyday - reassure everyone I'm okay - I'M NOT! 13 days....

Monday, July 16, 2012

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THIS? That is the question I continually ask myself? I know it would not make it easier if I had more children, BUT, how can I can on without my only child? If anyone could answer that, I would listen. 15 days.....

Saturday, July 14, 2012


She always sang as if no one could hear her...
...And, most of the time, it was a good thing they couldn't. I used to tell her that some people sang in a way that it hurt people's ears - Tash sang in a way that made my eyes feel that they might bleed at times. And, she knew every word to every song - no matter the genre. Thousands of songs remain on her ipod - unused - waiting for her to bring it to life.
If you went to see a show she had seen before, she would say all the lines with the actors - if it was a musical, she sang every song. I always tried to be irritated, but, ended up laughing - her joy was infectious.
We have passed the six month anniversary of her death - and now, we count down the days to her birthday. There is no relief. I leave town - and there is no escape - her face is everywhere - everything I see pulls another memory from the recesses of my mind. I don't want to forget her - I don't want to lose her - but, for one day, I would like to be able to shut down my brain - just relax - think of mundane, trivial things - FOR JUST ONE FUCKING DAY!! One of the things no one understands is that there is no peace when your child dies. Yes, people go back to their lives - and, there are no more plans to make - but, your brain never shuts down.
In the beginning - which is where I am - it's not the good times that run through your head 24/7 - it's the what-ifs, should have's and wished I would haves that rule your days and claim your nights. Of course, everyone tells you: "There was nothing you could have done" or "You did everything you could."  But, what they don't know is THAT IS A LIE!!!  There was so much more I could have done - I should have done - had I done my job as Tasha's mom, she would still be here.  Now, how does one live with that?  I guess they would live with it like I do - with little appetite, tons of guilt, daily thoughts of giving up, and the inability to sleep.  And, what I want all those people with all the answers to answer for me is: How do I get past that?  How do I come to terms with the fact that I failed my daughter?  I was not there when she needed me the most - she had to take her last breath alone - was she scared?  Did she call for me?  Did she fight to stay?  Or, was she relieved to be done with the life that had let her down so often?

For nine--and-a-half years, she had suffered through dialysis - and, if I was being honest with myself, there was no end to it in sight.  She may never have gotten another kidney.  Her body hurt, she was lonely, she was tired - had she had enough?  Am I selfish to wish that she had fought harder?

She really was my best friend and I think I was hers.  I cannot get over the fact that she left me - I do not understand how it could be.  There are days when I feel like I could go crazy - because I cannot accept the fact that she is not here - will not be here - will never celebrate another birthday.

I have seventeen days left in which I must make a decision.  In seventeen days, my baby would have turned 28 - now, she will forever be 27.  I miss her so much - I wish I had been a better mom - she deserved a better mom - she deserved a better life.

I love you, Tash...

Saturday, July 7, 2012



Do You Want to Help Me Grieve?


I am a new person
One I do not like
It's not who I want be
I try with all my might.

Please be understanding
Please be patient
Maybe you could just sit a while.
That is what I need.


Lost in the world without direction
My daily life offers no guidance
And I can no longer do all the little things
That I used to do.

There are places I cannot go -
There are things I can no longer do -
Shopping for groceries breaks me heart -
As I see her favorite foods down every aisle.

McDonald's is off-limits
The smell of her favorite place diminishes me to tears.
It was always her favorite -
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Please say her name -
Say if often -
It is music to my ears
Even though it often reduces me to tears.

I need to know she is remembered
I need to know you care
I need to know she mattered
And that  there was purpose in her few years.

When you say her name and I tear up,
It is not you that causes me pain.
It is the loss of my love,
my daughter, my Tash.

What can you do, you ask?
There are so many things -
But, none, I have the courage to seek.
Just be there for me.

I can always use a shoulder on which to cry -
Sometimes I need an ear,
It's okay to call and just let to me hear you breathe -
This is the hardest part.

I cannot come to you -
I cannot tell you what I need -
It's too hard to overcome this weakness -
I just need you to be there, friends.

This road is long and I am still trying to find my way -
My heart is ripped to shreds.
All you have to do is acknowledge my pain -
I can't tell you how much that would mean.

Someday, I hope to share her pictures -
Without the threat of total collapse -
I want to share her stories -
Especially the ones that made us laugh.

Twenty-seven years were not enough -
Not for the child of my heart -
The love of my life -
My beautiful, wonderful Tash.

They say this pain will ease -
It will not leave,
But, we will learn to live together -
This terrible pain and me.

Please be patient with me -
I will never be the same -
Your help is always welcomed
But, this grief has changed me into a new me
So different from the one I always thought I would be.

Friday, July 6, 2012

Six months ago...

That was the last time I saw your face - heard your voice - hugged your neck.  You were so bouncy - so excited about going out that night.  I couldn't even get out the door all the way because the dogs had screwed up the rug, pushing it up against the door.- but, I remember everything - what you said - what you were wearing - your Snooki slippers - what I was wearing - and, that stupid stack of boxes - the dialysis supplies that I thought would keep you alive.  Little did I know...

Tomorrow, it will be six months since you died - I am not sure how to go on racking up the anniversaries.  I don't want to count the days I haven't seen you - I want to count the days I see you - I want to see you!!  How is it possible that I could live years without you?   

I wonder about every minute of that last night.  Yes, there are pics of you dancing - pics of you with your friends - but, what was going on with YOU?  What did you think?  I have read the texts you sent at 3:30 in the morning - but, now, I have also read the medical examiner's report and I know you were not drunk.  What was wrong?  What happened?  I guess I may never have the answers to those questions while I am here  on earth.  Maybe, I will never have them at all.  But, knowing that answers possibly lie beyond this realm, gives me hope - and makes me anxious to learn those truths. 

It's July 6 - 25 days until your birthday - 25 days until I have to make a decision whether or not to answer that promise I made to you.  Twenty-five days for you to try to come through - to answer me - to tell me what to do.  Did you REALLY know how much I love you?  How much I needed you?  You may have thought that you needed me - and, maybe, that is true - BUT, I NEEDED YOU, TOO!!!  You completed me - you gave me purpose - you lit up my days - and, now, I lay here, thinking: 6 months ago - how could it have been six months?  How can I take another breath when you are not here?  Yet, my body betrays me - it lives on - while the most vital part of my life has left here.  How is that possible?

I love you, Tash - I hope you know how much - I hope you always knew how much. 




















By Faith, Not by Sight

By Faith, Not By Sight: The Inspirational Story of a Blind Prodigy, a Life-Threatening Illness, and an Unexpected Gift

I first saw Scott MacIntyre on American Idol.  It was there I saw his ability, his strength, and his attitude that seemed to hold him back from nothing.  I had to know more...


Reading that before American Idol, Scott almost died from kidney failure, made me stand up and take notice and he explains how he used the experience to do what  he felt like he was meant to do, all the while honoring God.  Scott's own words tell his story, taking the reader through his childhood and beyond his American Idol experience.  Throughout his story, McIntyre introduces is family and shares their strong faith in God. 

Scott's story is like a visit from a friend - as his words are read, one could imagine him sitting on the sofa, sharing his story - the ups and the downs.  Many times, when it seemed like doors were opening to Scott, he found them shutting before the full opportunity presented itself.  But, he never gave up, never stopped believing in God to do His will.  Scott McIntyre has never stopped stepping out of his comfort zone, facing his fear head-on - he continues to push the boundaries in his attempt to fully experience his life.   

Through his story, one finds an immense respect for his parents.  Realizing their son's love for the piano at an early age, they encouraged him at every turn.  Home-schooled throughout much of his education, his parents sacrificed to build his self-esteem, his skills and his ability to believe in dreams.  At the end of the book, while the reader knows she has just finished reading about a young man with a handicap, the real story is of a man with a strong faith who has many more abilities than disabilities, and uses those abilities to glorify God.  Inspiration does not even begin to describe this book.

I am so glad I read this book.  It reminded me of Tash -  her journey and the impact she made on people.   It's the story of a man who lets nothing hold him back, much like Tash.  I am a fan for life!

Wednesday, July 4, 2012

July 4, 2011


Our first July 4th without Tash - it was never a big family celebration - BUT, Tash loved fireworks! 

It's not getting easier.  In fact, I would say, with the six-month anniversary of her death coming up on Saturday, it is only getting harder.  I am not sure how or if it ever gets better.  Did I mention her birthday is July 31?  It's the day I promised to meet her - we have never spent her birthday apart.  How do I break this promise?  I broke so many promises to her in life - I do not feel like I can break one in death. 

If you have ever had anyone close to you die, I am sure you have heard someone say: "I am sure he/she would want you to be happy."  BULLSHIT!!!  How would they know?  No one was closer to my daughter than me - and I don't even know what she would want.  If I did, my life would be so much easier - not any less sad, but easier.  But, the truth is, Tash only wanted me to be happy when I was with her...would that change in death?

Tash was a 100 hug-a-day kid.  She could never have enough attention and that never changed - at least, not as it related to me.  If she found out I was out eating dinner, she would call and give me as much guilt as she could for not taking her.  The vacations I took without her were often celebrations of guilt - she couldn't believe I could go places and have fun without her.  I taught high school - and my relationships with kids drove her crazy.  She always took it as a slight to her.

HOW COULD SHE NOT KNOW SHE WAS ALWAYS NUMBER ONE IN MY LIFE???  No other person could have ever taken her place - no one will ever take her place.  She woke me up to what life was - what it could be - she opened the doors I had never had the chance to and I was able to see the world and excitement through her eyes.  She was everything that was good about my life.  She really was my sunshine...just like the song says...


As the day gets closer - 27 more days - I have to make a decision.  The questions continue - and they overwhelm and they frustrate - all questions - no answers.  My counselor says it's okay to break this promise - my husband begs me to break this promise - and, I...well, I wait for an answer.  There has to be a RIGHT answer - and, it has to be the answer that I can truly LIVE with.  What would Tash want?  Does she need me?  Does she want me there?  Does she want me here?  AM I living for two now - as I did when I was pregnant?  Is there a purpose?  What ever could my purpose be without Tash here?

From the time I looked into her face for the very first time, I believed my purpose in life was to be Tash's mom.  Without her, I have no idea who I am or what I am supposed to do. I say these words over and over - and, yet, I never feel closer to an answer to that issue.  I AM TASHA'S MOM!  I do not want to be anything else - I don't want to wake up everyday, knowing that I won't see her face, hear her voice.  How can you continue to live - to breathe - to think - when the purpose of your life has been ripped from you?  

Tuesday, June 26, 2012

The hours I am alone are few ---

I walk this house -
I look for you -
For signs -
For hope -
I find little of either -

All I find are more questions -
Why? 
How?
What am I supposed to do?
What would you think of what we are doing?
What would you want me to do?
Do you need me there?
Do you want me to stay here?
Do you want me to be happy?
Why did you leave me?

There are no answers - there are only more questions.
The grief is blinding -
it overtakes me when I am least expecting it -
Have you ever cried so hard and for so long that
hundreds of tiny "lightning bugs" flash before your eyes?
I want to leave this world -
more than anything -
I want to hold my daughter's hand.

Sunday, June 24, 2012

Natasha Courtney Knobel - another memorial - is it wrong or hateful to ask where all these people have been the last 10 years?  She could have used visitors when she was in the hospital and thought no one cared.  She could have used a kidney - would it have made a difference if just a tenth of you got checked?  Even if you hadn't been a match, would it have bolstered her drive to fight harder because she knew so many people cared? 

When I read back over that, it does seem wrong - to say out loud.  But, I have to let some of it out - there is so much trapped within my brain and body that I feel like I am about to explode at the seams.  However, I am so afraid that if I start letting it out, I may not be able to stop.

I thought the other day about adding in a bit of appreciation in this blog as well as ranting, crying, and pleading for understanding.  I will try it today and see where it leads - this will let me do a little time-traveling and perhaps, understand more about my life and my daughter.

I am appreciative of my husband and my relationship with him.   I met Hans - Constantinus Adrianus Carolus Maria Knobel - in 1986.  I was still married, and, though, we sat at the same table almost every day at lunch, we didn't speak more than 20 words to each other that first semester.  We went to Texas Wesleyan University together.  He was a Sig Ep - I was an Alpha Xi.  I knew he was a pledge and I knew he was from Holland - THAT'S ALL!!!  I was too wrapped up in surviving a disastrous marriage, raising my daughter, and trying to make it in college.  In the spring, we returned from break and I listened to his stories about his trip home to see his family.  But, still we said nothing more than "hello" and "bye" - until the end of March.  That is when we began to move forward and become friends - then more.  He became my baby-sitter - my more-than-a-friend friend, and began to play a part in my life that would save me from so many things - including myself.  Twenty-five years later, we have finally encountered the only thing he cannot fix.  He is still my hero - the love of my life - a wonderful father to my daughter - and, he is still trying to fix everything and continues to save my life every day.

Actually, as dumb as I thought that might be, it was good.  It allowed my mind to drift - if just for a while, to a part of my life that is still good.  I might give it a try more often.

This Saturday - it marked 24 weeks since Tash died - in just 13 days, it will be officially 6 months.  In 37 days, it will be her 28th birthday - though, she will forever be 27.  This was supposed to be her year - how can she be gone?  How can this be my life?  Do you believe in the sins of the father?  I wonder about that a lot.  I wonder if it's my fault that she had to suffer so much and, could it why she died so young?  I have not been a perfect person - but, I don't think I have ever done anything so horrible that it would cause all of Tash's suffering.  But, if it's not that, then what?  Does her suffering have a purpose?  If so, what was it?  It all seems so pointless.  I mean, I wouldn't give up or trade a minute I spent with her - but, it all seems so unfair.  She was a beautiful, bubbly little girl, with a ready smile and a contagious giggle.  Why did this disease pick her?  Why did God pick her?  Why me?  My life seems to have turned into a continuous pity party - a litany of "Why me?'s"  It is Tash that suffered and her suffering has ended.  But, is she happy?  Is there something after this life?  If I knew, for sure, that she was happy and completely healed and that there is an after-life where she could be happy and healthy, it would be so much better.  I would still be sad - I would still miss her every day - but, there would be some comfort in knowing she is okay - better than she was here.

Is it wrong to want her here with me?  I have so many regrets - and, I don't know who I am without her.  My brain goes in circles - as it comes back to the thought of "WHY?"  Natasha was a beautiful girl - my beautiful girl - and, as a person without parents - without a true family - without the opportunity to have more children, I think I deserved this one special child to be mine - to grow old with - to love - to look into her eyes as I left this world - not look into her dead eyes after she left this world.  I think of her every day - all day.  I cry everyday.  I question my way of grieving her - is it right?  Wrong?  Is there a right or wrong way to grieve? Should I keep her things out?  Put them away?  Keep them?  Get rid of them?  I don't know what to do.  I don't know how to put my life back together.  I am afraid to talk to people about all that resides in my head.  It is craziness - and I am afraid of what my counselor would say if she knew how obsessive my thoughts are- how my brain never shuts down.  IF ONLY there was a way to know what Tash would want me to do...36 days left on this journey...
24 weeks....fuck my life!

Monday, June 18, 2012

Our last pic together


Back from a week of vacation - a vacation for body - a vacation for soul - but, there is never a vacation from grief.  I cannot seem to link my mind with the reality of the fact that I will not see my baby again - will not hear her voice - will not hang out together - talk shit - and just giggle. 


She loved her animals - and they loved her.  How does one go on without their child?  I am sure people who have 5 children feel the same as I do - but, they, at least, have four other reasons to get up in the mornings.  I have none.  There will be no engagement party, no wedding, no grandchildren - no celebrations -- no crying sessions - none, except the ones I have daily.

I try to hide my tears.  I am becoming an expert actress - trying to give everyone what they want - put them at ease.  But, the truth is, I am still counting down the days until I fulfill my last promise to Tash.  I cannot imagine a long life without her - I am so sad - so angry that she left me.  Do I have the right to be angry?  Should I be angry with her?  I am so busy being angry with myself that I have not gotten around to being mad at her yet.  How can I be mad at her?  Well, as politically incorrect as it probably is to say, I CAN!! And, sometimes, I am.  I cannot give words to this feeling yet - I cannot put it out there and share it with others yet.  In counseling, we skirt around the issue - touching it - giving it life - but, backing off before it becomes too big to tame. 

I don't know how I am supposed to do this - there are no books to give me directions about how to mourn my only child.  Everyone agrees that you must do it your own way - but, after they look you in the face and verbalize that bullshit, they walk away, shaking their heads, while they contemplate how crazy you really are.  They talk shit behind your back - critiquing your coping ability - then, your "friends" come back & tell you what was said, thinking it will help you.  HERE'S SOME NEWS PEOPLE:  IT DOES NOT HELP!  It makes me crawl further into my shell, makes me do more pretending in front of people, makes me avoid leaving the house - and, inside, the anger is curdling, bubbling - and, I guess it will continue to do so until I cannot hold it in any longer.  I see my anger more - we have become acquainted in a way we haven't been for years - I pity the person who sends us tumbling down the mountain of rage.  It is so close to the surface lately - it comes out like lava out of a volcano - always directed at the stranger who has inadvertently ignited the fuse.  What does it take to make it happen?  Bump into me in the mall - move your seat in front of me at a show (learned this last week on my cruise) - any perceived slight sends me into a f-word-spewing fit and God help the person at the other end of my rage. 

I'm mad - and, it is so hard to hold it in - I want to be myself - I want permission to be sad - I am tired of acting for everyone else's comfort.  I am so scared everyone is going to go away if they see ME - but, hasn't the most important person already left me?  I am not sure if the rest matters...

Friday, June 8, 2012

Grief is a tidal wave that overtakes you, smashes down upon you with unimaginable force, sweeps you up into its darkness, where you tumble and crash against unidentifiable surfaces, only to be thrown out on an unknown beach, bruised, re-shaped, and unwittingly better for the wear. Grief means not being able to read more than two sentences at a time. It is walking into rooms with intentions that suddenly vanish. Grief is three-o'clock-in-the-morning sweats that won't stop. It is dreadful Sundays, and Mondays that are no better. It makes you look for a face in a crowd, knowing full well there is no such face to be found in that crowd. Grief is utter aloneness that razes the rational mind and makes room for the phantasmagoric. It makes you suddenly get up and leave a meeting in the middle, with-out saying a word. Grief makes what others think of you moot. It shears away the masks of normal life and forces brutal honesty out of your mouth before propriety can stop you. It shoves away friends. scares away so-called friends, and rewrites your address book for you. Grief makes you laugh at people who cry over spilled milk. right to their faces. It tells the world that you are untouchable at the very moment when touch is the only contact that might reach you. It makes lepers out of upstanding Citizens. Grief discriminates against no one, it kills. Maims. And cripples. It is the ashes from which the phoenix rises, and the mettle of rebirth. It returns life to the living dead. It teaches that there is nothing absolutely true, or untrue. It assures the living that we know nothing for certain. It humbles. It shrouds. It blackens. It enlightens. Grief will make a new person out of you if it doesn't kill you in the making. BY Stephanie Ericsson .......

Thursday, May 31, 2012

Today was a different kind of day. I didn't cry - I almost cried during my "special hour," but I didn't - only the threat of tears. It's the first day since Tash died that I haven't cried. I don't know if that's progress. I don't know how how I feel about it - a little guilty. There are so many terrible things about the death of your child - your only child - but, one of the worst is guilt. I don't know what I could have done differently - but, there had to be something that I could have done to save her - to make her life easier - to have gotten her that kidney that she was waiting on - SOMETHING!!! The guilt rides my shoulders so much - so, on a day like today, a day that would be considered good by many is considered not too good by me. NOW, I feel guilty for not feeling sad or guilty. How messed up is that? It's a vicious cyle - this grieving process. It will be five months next week & I'm still texting her every day - I'm still checking her Facebook - I'm still leaving comments. Is this normal? I don't know. Does it matter whether it's normal? Because normal or not, this is MY new normal. I'm learning that I have to let people go from my life. I'm learning that I don't know who I am. I have always been TASHA'S MOM and that's the only thing I ever wanted to be. The rest of my life has involved being who others want me to be - who they expect me to be. I don't even know who I really am with Tash removed from my life. I don't even know what I like - what I like to do. I have become a chameleon, blending into whatever form I need to, if it allows me to fit in, make others feel at ease, or allows me easy passage. This week, I want to find something I like - a song, an outfit, a hobby - WHO AM I? Because I know I am not me that I have been for the last 43 years....