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.



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. 

Grieving God's Way

 

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

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...

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.

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

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...