Today Julia asked, "Can children die?" Yes, children can die. Usually people are really old when they die, but yes, children can die, too. Like Claire. "I wish Claire didn't have to die." Yes, me, too. No one wanted that to happen. "I wish no one ever had to die. I wish everyone could live forever." She cries.
I wish I could live a life in which my 4 year old didn't have these questions. Julia has been talking about Claire more- maybe because we include her subtly in our holiday celebrations. We make her a part of our life and try to focus on the positive. Remembering her, the love that we shared with her, and the memories that she has left us with. Julia has been having a rough time lately, though, with me going back to work, Audrey and the attention she requires, one of her main teachers being gone on for a long vacation, etc. We're all doing the best we can to get through the day, but it hasn't been easy.
There is a baby girl who belongs to a friend of a friend who I came in contact with just a few weeks after losing Claire. She had to be nearly the same age as Claire- maybe just a little older. During that first unexpected encounter, I was unable to stay in the same room. Had I known she would be there, I would have declined the invitation but instead struggled to try to keep it together, eventually had to go play with Julia in the adjoining room, and finally got a message to Jerre that we had to leave. Occasionally, I see this little girl. Not often, but we saw her and her family at an event a few weeks ago. The little baby girl was walking. Talking. Playing with her sibling. She seemed so big. Claire's 2nd birthday just a couple of months away.
Julia complains about Audrey slobbering all over her toys... and I am struggling to try to play with Julia while trying to keep Audrey contained, entertained, and happy... so essentially it feels like I'm failing at both. I know I'm not the first mom to feel this way, but of course I wonder how it all would have been.
The holidays bring with them so much pressure. Pressure to have the 'perfect' Christmas all tied up with a big bow. To ring in the New Year with a smile on your face and a kiss on your lips. I wonder, though, how many of us are just trying to 'get through it.' Yes, there is joy and we have had some really nice times with our family and friends this holiday season... but these days remind us of both our greatest reasons to celebrate as well as our Christmas that never will be.
Three minus one equals Zero. Or, in our case, four minus one equals Zero. Please see the film Return to Zero when it releases in 2014. Put it on your list for the New Year.
You can preorder the book Three Minus One: Parents' Stories of Love and Loss which was inspired by the film. Click here: Three Minus One Preorder on Amazon (My friend, Meagan, a contributor) Talk to those you know who have lost children or loved ones. Say their child's name. The whole, "I don't know what to say" thing has got to go. Here is what you say: "Tell me about ______. I want to know more about them. I know you're thinking about them, how are you doing?" And listen. For REAL. Without speaking. There. Now you know what to say.
This is my wish for 2014. That we could all quit being so polite and wanting everyone to be happy. That we could actually mean it when we ask, "How's it going?" and be ready for the truth. That we could stop worrying about what we look like or how things will seem. Cut the crap and put it out there. Because when your 4 year old asks if children can die, sh*t just got real. This is my world in 2014 and this is the life I am living. And yes, when Audrey is crying for an hour in the night it isn't fun... but she's breathing.
Sorry that was a little disjointed, but it's that whole screaming in the night thing catching up with me. It's seriously time to go back to work so I can get some rest.
And a moment of levity, because none of that was really... Julia also said today, "When I grow up, I don't ever want to move in (she means out). I want to live in this house until I DIE. Because I want to have Christmas and Halloween."
1 comment:
Thanks for sharing this Laura. I relate so much to your words- Though I have not lost a child, having lost my mom in combination with having no other family, and being single, means that Christmas is a day I spend alone... There are no presents, shared meals, celebrating. It is what it is, and I deal with it each year with varying degress of success... The season is not completey devoid of joy for me, however it does accetuate a great loss and emply space in my life that is just easier not to dwell on at other times of the year. The most diffucult thing however is that speaking truthfully about the way I experience Christmas seems to be taboo amongst friends who have no concept of what it is to be without family. There does seem to be that pressure to at least put on a happy facade - To project the "perfect Christmas all tied up with a big bow" and to "ring in the New Year with a smile on your face and a kiss on your lips." Indeed, there are many big Christmas bows missing and lips that go without kisses on New Year's Eve. There are many of us "just trying to get through it." Anyhow, I always enjoy the way you speak (or write) the truth of your experience here... I do hope your new year is filled with more happiness than sorrow, but that in the times of sorrow, you are granted the space to grieve and not be expected to act or be happy. I hope all who ask you "How's it going?" in the new year do so sincerely, with a willingness to hear the truth!
Brandi
Post a Comment