Journey

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Be careful not to look deeply for the things that cause sorrow for they are buried along with the memories and laughter. Only proceed if you’re willing to go the distance. The journey is a lifetime and the days can be filled with sunshine or rain. The most difficult hurdle is not knowing the difference as seen from the outside. It’s one step at a time with one foot in front of the other. The timeline is undefined and the outcome can only be measured by the love you have in your heart.

Until next time

M

October 13th

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Well it is again that time of year when I am brought to my knees with vivid memories of that horrific day back in 2006 when I said goodbye to my world. My daughter Brittany died after suffering a seizure at our home. While she was no stranger to seizures, she had been doing well on medication with the exception of the last 12 months of her life. Being a nurse I think either prepared me for what I knew clinically would happen over that long 12 hour night. Understanding the story the monitors where telling me. That she was struggling to stay alive. Her body was not responding to the medications and she was entering multi-system shutdown.

As her heart failed, mine began to break. I will never be able to remove that moment at 6:55 am when one of her nurses was on top of her in the bed performing CPR. The fourth and final round of CPR while other medical personnel surrounded her bed providing all the necessary means to revive her one last time. The previous three attempts had been successful but not without taking a toll on her body. This time seemed different. The monitors did not lie. We all knew it was too late – her body was telling us it had nothing left. The nurse and my eyes met and instinctively I knew it was futile. It was time to call it off – to stop the assault that was happening to her and let her go.

I try not to go back to this dark place very often. It’s one of the darkest places I can be and it takes my breath aware every time I do. It’s painful beyond words to speak it. To this day I can only write about it. And I don’t write about every detail because it is just too much to acknowledge. But trust me when I say I would not wish this experience on any one. Watching the life of your only child being taken from you is beyond comprehension. The agony of it all is too much even today to linger on.

In seven years I have come far in my journey to recover from the loss of my daughter Brittany. It’s a process that will take my lifetime to heal. I’ll never be over her death – just so we set the record straight here. You never get over a death – you just continue to heal. I think we all have a choice to move forward and make something good happen out of the horrible loss, but understand it is not easy and takes the strength of many to support and love when there are times when it doesn’t seem possible to take another breath or to go on one more day. I am blessed beyond measure to have a strong support group that are my closest friends. They know when I need to have some time alone, when I need prayer, when I need them to hug me and make me laugh. God truly blessed me with such great friends.

As October 13th approaches please take a moment and look up to the sky and thank God for your loved ones – whether they have crossed over or still living. We are all better people for having our loved ones and I know for sure my daughter would be very proud of who I am today.

Until next time,

M

Conversations

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I have been reluctant to write about the topic of “conversations I have with myself” for fear some might not understand or make inferences to something they do not understand. The conversations I have with myself about my grief are sometimes enlightening, profound and quite frankly – scary. I hope you can understand then my reservations about posting such personal thoughts. But wait I think you may know me by now and have come to understand I don’t hold much back when it comes to my thoughts and feelings. But I think even this topic could raise a few eyebrows.

I’ve even thought of creating a random Tumblr account and posting my inner most thoughts – but even that seems a bit daunting. Would anyone read it and better yet, would anyone care. I don’t know. As I peruse blogs I find such random topics and wonder what actually drives people to blog at all. Is it a need to be heard or a need to vent? I think maybe both. For me personally, it’s a need to vent the pain of loss that pursues me daily and a desire to help others.

Conversations I have with myself are like mini movies in my head. You know like reading a script and I’m the only actor in the movie. Reminds me of the play I saw on Broadway – 700 Sundays by Billy Crystal. He does the whole play by himself. Replaying life for the audience. I think my blog is a lot like that. I wonder if it’s run its course. Have I said all there is to say about grief. What it was then is how it is now. No one understands it. This topic has always been between me and God. In the early days the conversations I had with God, were dynamic and gut-wrenching. Things have changed. I am not sure what to do next. Nothing feels right. The conversations are gray and vague with no real purpose. I have lost my vision.

So what do I do next? Does it matter? If I listen to myself, those conversations in my head, I’d leave it be and let the blog go on to live where old blogs die. But there is a dynamic pull to keep it going. I just know I feel restless and there is a need for change. The one thing I am completely sure of and that is this: Grief has changed me. Grief has become a permanent resident in my life and covers my heart like a scar that covers an open sore. It’s hardened my heart. I’m not sure that is reversible. So perhaps that is where this blog goes from here. From acute to chronic. Finding a way to live again in a meaningful way. Sorting through the conversations in my head that tell me it’s too hard. Yeah I think I might have told you this was a little scary and I’m not gonna lie – it’s a tough way to exist. What has worked thus far is no longer an option, I have to find a way through this fog and make sense of who I am going forward because who I am now – is not who I thought I’d be.

Until next time

m

Picture

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I’d paint a picture for you

But you wouldn’t understand

The colors are absent and the pattern is vague

The concept is hard to see; and you can’t

Wrap your head around it;

The thought of it you can’t imagine.

Picture dropping a family heirloom,

One that was valued at a gazillion dollars.

And you come home one day and it

Lay before you shattered into a million

Pieces

But you wouldn’t understand

The pieces are just part of something

You cannot see; a vision of what was once

A form that brought beauty to one’s eye.

Now it is just a mess on the floor.

That is my heart…..

Malissa Moss

Chronic Sorrow

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Chronic sorrow is the periodic recurrence of permanent, pervasive sadness or other grief related feelings associated with a significant loss. (Eakes GG, 1998).

I have often wondered about how long sorrow would hold up residence in my heart. Since the death of my daughter seven years ago I can say with the utmost certainty that it will always be a part of who I am. Sorrow has taken up permanent residence in my heart. Specifically over the space where my lovely daughter holds a forever spot. Scared by loss, and maybe a little broken, but my heart still beats on. It still feels love. It still leaps for joy when something or someone brings happiness into my life.

I have come to understand that sorrow and happiness can live harmoniously in one space if, and only if, they are both respected. Given their time to be heard. Chronic sorrow seems like a disease, but really it’s just a label for a mother’s broken heart. I wouldn’t say that I have a pervasive sadness about me. It’s more like moments in time that I reflect on a life once known, and a time that some days I’d love to hear her voice or her funny laugh, but pervasive sadness – I don’t think so.

Do I think pervasive sadness happens to some? Absolutely and that breaks my heart for them. I understand how it can happen. I do believe if I had not fought hard to come out of the fog of sorrow and into a life that I can bring light to my daughter’s memory – I too would have fallen into this pervasive sadness. So if you find yourself there – seek help. Talk to a professional, write it out – do something. The best years after loss can come but its hard work. At times can be exhausting. But with a lot of support, faith and love you can make it to a space where the sadness and sorrow take their rightful place but does not permeate your soul.

I’m a living testimony that while I have lost much, I want to live on doing the work I was made to do. I want to fulfill my destiny. Just like my sweet Brittany. She is the light that shines brightly and keeps reminding me that I have to stay focused on the good in the world. That is my prayer for you.

Until next time,

M

Peaceful Breathing

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Tennessee

I know that some days it’s hard to see the beauty that is in front of us
because the clouds of sorrow blind us to it.
But take a moment right now to stop take a deep breath and blow it out.
Take the time to breathe in life and breathe out sorrow. It can be done.
It takes practice, really a conscious effort, but with daily practice –
you will see with more clarity, feel with more depth
and live with more peace.

Until next time,

M

Grief Exposed

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Last night I as I attempted to sleep thoughts of my journey played out in my head keeping me from a restful sleep. I said to myself – “you should get up and write” but I finally succumbed to the exhaustion and fell asleep. I don’t recall what it was specifically that I was dreaming about and that annoys me. I feel like at times I dream of things that have a message. But last night it was more like a restlessness that I cannot pinpoint. I cannot identify readily as this or that. It is just simply the restlessness that comes with grief.

I am coming into the dark days but it is a bit early just yet. I usually experience the dark days  beginning in September and it usually  lasts until the new year. With each year that has passed since my Brittany’s untimely death, I have called the days leading up to her death as the dark days. I have included the holidays for they have lost their luster for me. Can’t get that back. In fact, the meaning for many celebratory things have left me with a void that I cannot fill. I can only live in the moment and I cannot find the hutzpah to look into the future. Life for me is simply this….fill my day with busyness. Distractions work well.

Pondering on a past life that I longed for so long was ripped from me and in the wake of that,  I was not left with much to rebuild on. Not sure what the message is for me. I have resolved that I cannot figure it out and that I have to be ok with that. But haven’t quite got a grip on that yet. I still question “why me” a lot. I can look back over my life and say “why me” so many times that one might imagine any normal person would have gone berserk by now. I keep the faith that one day it will all become clear to me. Why so much has been taken from me. Why didn’t I get what they have. When I say “they”, I say all those who continue to enjoy their children, see them grow, graduate, marry and have children. My arms ache for the loss of so much. I cannot put it into words how profoundly empty that feels.

I hope that some day it will perhaps make more sense, but for now I am at a loss, my broken heart profoundly exposed and my sorrow spills over into a river of tears. I wrote today this which pretty much sums up my sorrow….

“Sometimes I just want to go back because going forwards means the distance between me and you fades and all I’m left with is the faint hint of who you were in my life.”

Until next time,

m

Anniversaries

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I recently had a chance to sit down with a dear friend and just talk about our girls. Ironically their names were Brittany. And more ironically it was a Brittany that introduced us. Coincidence – I think not. I believe Debbie and I were meant to cross paths and even more destined to become friends.

I cannot tell you how therapeutic it is to be able to sit and talk about my Brittany with someone who won’t judge me, won’t feel uncomfortable around me and won’t try to change the subject. Someone who gets me. Who understands why it is so incredibly important to talk about my daughter. It is just as equally important for her to talk about her Brittany. To understand that I want to hear about her. I understand what most do not… that is Brittany is a part of her, a part of who she is and who she has become. You cannot live a life of denial just because it makes someone uncomfortable.

This happened to be on the anniversary date of her daughter Brittany’s passing. I was so honored that she wanted to spend that day with me. But as a grieving mother, I understand why. Probably when no one else can or will. I have learned to release that into the universe. I cannot hold it against those who do not understand the importance of keeping my daughter’s memory alive. But spending time with people who get it – that is priceless.

I was so happy to spend time with Debbie. I thought I was going to be the one who offered comfort on this anniversary date for her, but in all honesty – it was Debbie that comforted me. I was the one who was given such an amazing gift. The gift of sharing, caring and most of all, genuine love of sharing our daughter’s.

I know they both are up there in heaven smiling down on us – knowing we have made that connection. That we will forever be connected by three girls named Brittany. One on earth and two in heaven.

Until next time,

m

A Mother’s Grief

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Found this poem and wanted to share with you because it says the words we so often want to say but don’t.

A Mother’s Grief

You ask me how I’m feeling,
but do you really want to know?
The moment I try telling you
You say you have to go

How can I tell you,
what it’s been like for me
I am haunted, I am broken
By things that you don’t see

You ask me how I’m holding up,
but do you really care?
The moment I start to speak my heart,
You start squirming in your chair.

Because I am so lonely,
you see, friends no longer come around,
I’ll take the words I want to say
And quietly choke them down.

Everyone avoids me now,
I guess they don’t know what to say
They told me I’ll be there for you,
then turned and walked away.

Call me if you need me,
that’s what everybody said,
But how can I call and scream
into the phone,
My God, my child is dead?

No one will let me
say the words I need to say
Why does a mothers grief
scare everyone away?

I am tired of pretending
my heart hammers in my chest,
I say things to make you comfortable,
but my soul finds no rest.

How can I tell you things
that are too sad to be told,
of the helplessness of holding a child
who in your arms grows cold?

Maybe you can tell me,
How should one behave,
who’s had to follow their child’s casket,
watched it perched above a grave?

You cannot imagine
what it was like for me that day
to place a final kiss upon that box,
and have to turn and walk away.

If you really love me,
and I believe you do,
if you really want to help me,
here is what I need from you.

Sit down beside me,
reach out and take my hand,
Say “My friend, I’ve come to listen,
I want to understand.”

Just hold my hand and listen
that’s all you need to do,
And if by chance I shed a tear,
it’s alright if you do to.

I swear that I’ll remember
till the day I’m very old,
the friend who sat and held my hand
and let me bare my soul.

~ Kelly Cummings

A place to grieve.

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When my daughter died, we struggled about what to do for her funeral or celebration of life ceremony. The one thing I knew is that I did not want to experience what I had gone through with my mom’s funeral and my grandmother’s funeral. Both had open casket funerals and it was so hard to erase that memory from my head. I didn’t want to remember them that way. I knew whatever we chose to do for Brittany – it had to be different.

It had to mimic her life as she lived it. We also knew that while our lives had been firmly planted in Michigan, we did not want to bury her there. We had been too mobile over the years and lived so many places. So we decided to cremate her, giving her father and I 1/2 of her to be with us for eternity. No casket, no grave,  no marker – just a picture on an easel and a memory board with notes from her friends and photos of great times.

I have made a space in my home to memorialize her and while it gives me a space to go and visit – I don’t think it’s the same as having a grave to go to; to place flowers on – to cry over. While I’m not a big fan of cemetery visiting – I do often feel a bit regretful about that decision. I struggled with visiting my mom’s grave. Only have done it on maybe four occasions since her passing in 1988. It’s so hard. So many feelings arise in me when I walk up to her grave. It’s not ever been a good experience for me.

I remember one time taking Brittany to my mom’s grave at her request and she asked why I was staying in the car, I told her that I did not want to remember my mom dead in a grave. I chose to remember her living and loving her family. So I reluctantly got out of the car and went with Brittany to visit her grave. We placed flowers on her headstone and then I just cried.

Sometimes I see those of you who read my blog or follow me on Facebook and Twitter and I see your photos of the headstones and gravesites of your children and I pause and wonder if I made the right choice for my Brittany. But then I go  upstairs to her memorial bookshelf and I know she is with me anywhere and anytime. I have to feel okay with that.

I think we all make decisions that we wonder are the right ones for us. As life goes on those choices begin to take on new meaning or become less appealing. We begin to second guess our decisions. But at the end of the day having a place to quietly pay my respects and to talk with Brittany is what is most meaningful to me. It’s there whenever I want to go there.

Whatever choice you made is the one you were suppose to make and it’s time to stop second guessing, and living in regret. Be a peace with those choices and know that our loved ones are always around us helping us to move forward in the lives we need to live out until it is our time to meet them again.

Until next time,

m