Skip to main content

Your Imagination, My Reality

(At least trying)



How has my voice become so silenced?

When did I let fear of judgment take over?

Why did I allow what others think of me control my thoughts and actions?

My life has been a roller coaster ride for many years now, and I am not sure how I let others influence me so much. Almost 3 ½ years ago my life was forever changed. I never thought I would never survive the death of Mckenna. But here I am and doing the best I can. I live on my own, I own my own car, I work full time, and go to school full time. Yes I have rough days, yes I cry, yes I am sad, but is that really a bad thing? Is 3 ½ years too long to “still” have really rough days? I think the answer to that question is NO!!! Many people have told me they couldn’t imagine losing a child. They would just die if one of their children died. What do you think that tells someone who’s child has died?? I often wonder what they would REALLY do if one of their children died. How would they be if they were in my shoes? I meet parents all the time who have lost a child or children to death and we all find ways to survive.

Can you tell me if your child died you would go back to “normal”?

Many people don’t know what it’s like to go from a wife and mother to nothing in a matter of 3 months. Many don’t know what it’s like to try and find your way alone. Many don’t know what it’s like to drown in such guilt and shame that it almost kills you. Many don’t know what it’s like to be the reason your daughter took her last breath. No one knows what it’s like to hold their lifeless daughter in their arms, telling her to breath for mommy as two tears roll down their child’s face, many don’t know what it’s like to hold their child while the Dr looks you in the eyes and tells you her heart has stopped beating. Many don’t know what it’s like to hold their dead child singing and rocking her knowing it was the last time they would ever hold her again. Many could NEVER even begin to imagine doing any of those things and yet I have. No amount of time will ever take away the pain of Mckenna dying; no pill will “cure” me from the longing and yearning I feel every day. In a moment it takes my breath away.  I think, is this really real? Did she really die? This is really my life? Yes EVEN after 3 ½ years I think these thoughts. I sleep with her pajamas every night, I still don’t have her pictures up in my apt, I STILL miss her every day.

Wouldn’t you??

Before you judge a bereaved parent try and take a moment to step inside their shoes. Try and just imagine waking up tomorrow without your child, what does that look like for you? Try and just imagine living the rest of your life without EVER seeing, touching, holding, watch grow, take their first steps, say their first words, go to school, go to prom, get married, have children of their own, and all the things in between………

Can you even imagine it???

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

My treasured last week

Today I have been reflecting on the last week I had with Mckenna. It seems like I can recall every detail of the last week I had her in  my arms and thought I would share my last week.  My last day with Mckenna  Sat Sept 20th : Billy had Mckenna that weekend but left her with Tammy to come move our stuff into storage. I missed her but thankful to have someone to watch her while we moved  MOST of our stuff. Sun Sept 21st, 2008 : I worked that day and couldn't wait to get off work because I was getting Mckenna back. Billy dropped her off at my work I waited with her outside for Mare to get done because we rode together. She was happy to see her mommy. Mon Sept 22nd, 2008 : I had started this class at Pheonix college for my CCT at work so I could draw blood and put in and take out foley's. Mare couldn't watch her that day so my friend Lisa took the day off work to watch her for me. I had to wake up extra early to get ready just in case Mckenna was up earlier ...

Closing the Book of my Childhood...

Growing up I went to my Nana and Papa's house frequently. She would keep us weeks at a time in the summers. Nana was for a grandmother but also didn't take any back talk or attitude. When I was 10 years old, I moved in with Nana and Papa. My room was downstairs, without a door and had the washer and dryer in the room. Eventually they put on saloon like doors for a little privacy. I lived there until I turned 13. Big years living with your grandparents. Vital years really, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I always felt connected to my Nana. We were a lot a like. I still wonder what she would think of me now and how I turned out. I would help around the property, help plant cactus (and laugh hysterically together after because we were so sweaty and gross), helped feed the animals, water the trees, water the plants, ride my bike all the time. I actually played out doors every day. Sometimes I was allowed to eat ice cream for dinner when no one wanted to c...

Fight for Your Healing

Not long ago one of my soul sister friends said to me, fight for your healing. This has been weighing heavy on my heart lately because I have not been fighting for my healing.   Those who know me very well know that I am kind of a melancholy person. I have always been this way even as a child. I guess maybe I was born this way and when you are born with a certain personality trait it is hard to be anything else. I may not be able to fully get rid of the inner melancholy but I can at least try and find things that bring me out of my shell, things that make me laugh, things that require me to step outside of my comfort zone. Sitting in my room by myself all the time is not healthy (yes I still do this).  Darkness continues to fall upon me more often than not. The older I get the harder it is to wade through the dark to find the light. I try and allow it to come and go but when it comes so frequently I become discouraged and disappointed in myself causing the cyc...