slap

Words take on new meaning..thoughts can sometimes slap me in the face.

Tony is out with a friend tonight. The boys are pretty much refusing to go to sleep. But now behaving well enough so I am blogging.

A little bit ago though Nicholas was pushing it. My first thought was to jokingly text Tony that he might come home to one less kid..

…SLAP.

Did I really just think that??

Sitting down now to write it was too much. I walked back to them and just kissed them each and said I love you…go to sleep. That thought I am sure is a fairly normal one. But a perfect example of how we have been stripped of our usual day to day.

Same thing with relationships. The death of our daughter and strained and changed every relationship.

I write a lot about it in regards to our family. The 5 (it will always still be 6) of us.  But thats the obvious, as well as a huge part of the stretch elsewhere. Everything I have in me has to go to them… to us. We have been demolished…rebuilding is harder and different than I thought it would be. I thought we would do lots of trips together. Make new memories…appreciate each other.

It has been much slower going than I thought it would be.

Its hard to have those closest to me also so overwhelmed in grief . And, to frankly, not have the energy to help and care the way I normally would have. With some it has brought us closer and some pushed apart. I am doing my best to just ride with it and trust we will remake a new normal.

**this was a hard blog to write tonight, a lot of writing and erasing trying to figure things out in my own head. I can’t seem to get out the piles of confused thoughts bouncing inside my head**

I am trying to accept the help of the people around us. While still keeping the layer of protection that makes me feel safe.

And most importantly not take all of this for granted… to have it be communicated what is wanted from me as well.

I know the attention towards us will wane and I am trying to lay groundwork with as many people as I can to be sure we have multiple strong relationships. Because I am trying to admit to myself I will be needy for a long time. Its hard when there are sooo many people that want to see and touch us. A lucky problem to have… I do know that.

 

I want to continue to have my boys deepen the bonds with their Aunts and Uncles. I want to talk with moms that have survived what it feels like I can’t.. and build friendships. I want to thank people for their support and make contacts for the non-profit. I want to reinforce the friendships that we are already so lucky to have.

But I need some solitude. I need one thing at a time. I need to concentrate on my kids and husband. Often I need to just breathe and let my mind roam. .

This is all such a prefect example of how I fully can acknowledge its hard to help somebody in the agony of child loss. We don’t know what we want. We want you to reach out… but might not have space for you in that moment.

It all makes me feel like crap.

I feel like a broken record but I am so scared of being forgotten… That people, the ones who know us best will move on.. with us left behind. That in a year from now we won’t still be getting dinner invitations and text messages. I get so many now I can’t answer them all. I am grateful for that problem.

I am scared for the time my phone grows quiet.

Because if I am forgotten it means she is too.

Today I got two text messages about children missing Jennifer. Talking about her or drawing her name. It meant a lot to me.

Then it slapped me. A good solid one right to the face.

She was only six…she is now forever six. Such a short life. These kids missing her now meant so very much to me. But I know they won’t always.. .they are kids. They are resilient and they aren’t built for this.

. . .not even my kids.

 

 

They leave little things for her on the floor in her room. Just time to time I find them. I thought it was always Jonathan but I know one today was Nicholas. I will be sad when a week goes past and they haven’t brought something for sissy. I know that they need to grow past it though…

 

Jonathan was super star at his pre-school. They get to bring in something in a bag and write clues for the other students to guess. Last time it was his super sib trophy from a non-profit established to support siblings of cancer patients. This time it was her stuffed cat she got on our girls and Daddy trip to Disneyland. Its current home has been on the arm of the snuggle couch where we spent many of our last days together.

 

 

His teachers took a picture of him with it. He was so proud. So was I. Tony handled all the set up of it this go around. So with full confidence I can say it had nothing to do with me.. He just loves and misses his sissy and this was his way of showing her off and bringing a piece of her with him.

 

It won’t always be like that though.. . He will grow through this.. and forget. Not totally of course.. but he will.

 

It will happen to me too. When we get invited anywhere my first thought is still her food. What to bring for her. Then I remember I will never feed her again and it hurts..Its a crushing on my chest. One day though.. I won’t think of that.

One day I will be at a party and then it will hit me at cake time. One day I will say all the kids and mean my living three .. One day  . .

That day.

When I realize I forgot.. .

. .that she wasn’t my first thought…

. . slap.