Here is the problem….. I keep trying to force the writing, and it’s not working. I keep thinking that no one wants to hear about my grief, and I don’t blame them. I am Debbie Downer in my own head, and people read here for hope about their disease and better health…… and yet, every time I try to write about a regular thing, my head is still here. The words don’t come….. Sighhh…..
So, I am sorry…. if you don’t want to keep reading, I totally understand….I promise I will soon return to normal. Normal is just taking time. How are we all doing? Well….. better than some, I think.
As a mom, this is the hardest thing of my entire life. I am trying to help my family with their grief and as a grandma, and as a mom, I have mine too. I have never been a grandma before, no one told me that if something like this happened, my grief would be enormous. I didn’t consider that this would happen. After five months, I thought it was just all going to be okay. I wanted to believe that. How could I have known?
Honestly, I have seen far too much death in my lifetime. Way too much. But this? This is by far the absolute worst. Nothing in life got me ready for this. I have dealt with a lot in my life, but nothing compares to this. I had no idea…..
I am a “fixer” kind of mom. You tell me your problem, and I start dreaming of solutions. Then I get in my car, come over and I help you with it. I fix it. I make it better, I make it hurt less. We sit and talk about it, and younfeel better. Reality? I can’t fix this, no matter how hard I try, I can’t fix it. I can’t even lessen the pain, all I can do is hold my little girl’s hand while she rides through.
I have tried so hard to be stoic. We are all walking down this path but it isn’t the same for all of us. I try to be a strong presence because my kids need me, but then little stuff happens and I have a hard time. The other day I was mowing the lawn. I thought it was a great way to expend some of this pent up frustration I have. I am walking like a marathon runner with the lawn mower, like exhaust yourself and the pain will be less, and then I see something in the grass. It was a dead rabbit…. something obviously attacked it. I don’t know why that bothered me so much, or why my reaction was over the top but it was.
I stopped in my tracks, sweating from walking so fast, and breathing heavy. I looked at it and the reaction was immediate….I got physically ill, and sobbed like a four year old right there in the yard. Knelt on the ground sobbing. Thank goodness no one was around.
I called Sara later that day, who knew I wasn’t in a good place. I shrugged it off, “I will be fine, today is just my day to have the wave hit. After work, I am going to swim at the Y,” I told her, which I did. I was like a marathon swimmer there too, back and forth walking, swimming, walking swimming, over and over and over. On the way home, I was still feeling it so I went into the cemetery to clean up the grass around the flower pot. That’s what I told myself anyway. There, on the baby’s grave, was a young deer. Sitting right on his spot. I got out of the car and he bolted. I knelt down and could feel the spot was warm and the tears came again. Gut wrenching sobs, coming straight from my heart. I followed the deer, took his picture, and cried some more.
Who ever knew that one tiny little person who weighed less than a pound, who never spoke a word to me, has managed to take up so much space of my heart. I am forever changed just from knowing him. The truth is, I love that sweet little boy with all my heart. I pray for him, I ask God for signs that he is okay and with people who will love him. God answers all the time, but my heart still hurts. I miss him.
Sara and I went back to the cemetery another day when she was having a hard time, and we both stood there sobbing. My pain is enormous, so how awful must hers be, and why can’t I carry it for her for just a little while. Why can’t I make it better? I pray to the baby all,the time, “Help your parents, they are hurting so badly and they love you so much. Find a way to help them.”
We talk about little Russ, what he might have been like, who he would have taken after. We talk about how his personality might have been. We talk about the things we were going to do… Sometimes we laugh about that, other times we cry.
Sara was feeling badly, that her grief is still so strong. She has been incredibly strong and I am so proud of her. Like, me, she is hard on herself, apparently you do teach that without words, and I am sorry I did. I told her, “Listen to me. We get out of bed everyday. We shower, we cook food, we go to the store. We do family things, we see friends. Russ and I are back to work and you are set to return on time. Is it easy? No… but we are living every single day, and that’s more than some could do.” It doesn’t lessen her pain but it feels like we are at least making progress. And we are….we Hellinger women are not easy on ourselves…. ever… we come from stock that was forged of steel. Survival is in our blood, and no matter what happens, we will come out of it stronger. It just takes us a little time.
On the outside, and to most people except closest friends, I appear back to normal.My eating habits are back to normal, except I am evening hungry, which was an old habit I thought I broke. I will get my stride back, it’s coming along. Yesterday I was starving at work and didn’t have a lunch, and so I got a chopped salad from subway, all vegetables and olive oil. It was good. I have mostly normalized my emotional eating, the monster calls but I have kept him at bay. I wish my weight would start moving like now! Patience for others is enormous, for myself? Ehhhhhh … not so much. It will move, stress weighs as does lack of sleep.
I had a million summer projects planned that have not begun. I am working quite a bit, and have several students that I am tutoring that I really enjoy! That part is good. I get to the YMCA to swim, not much else except my home Pilates practice, at least five days. And my Fitbit says I am getting above the recommended 10,000 steps each day. Okay so not too bad there, could be better.
I started a rock painting for a friend that is going verrryyyyyy slow. I know that is where I am pouring most of my emotional self because I keep painting the same tuft of fur over and over. I pray and meditate a lot in that place. I hold the brush in my hand and suddenly realize fifteen minutes of nothing has happened. No sense forcing it, it will come when it is ready. Sleeping is a challenge but it’s better today than two weeks ago. I go to bed exhausted and I am out but then wake up. I looked at the Fitbit tracker and I see where it needs work. It’s all okay…… it really is okay. I get out of bed everyday, I shower, I eat, I live my life…. just like I told Sara.
I feel a lot better now….. maybe I just needed to write it down, to air it. All things considered I guess we are okay. Hugssssss….. thank you for listening to me. Here is to finding my way back to normal. It’s just going to take a little time…..
Thank you for your kindness and prayers, appreciated more than you know.
Chris