What a week … just ask anyone who spent time with me or spoke to me and they will attest that I was completely coming undone.
Sometimes I feel abandoned by the very people who are supposed to love me the most. Just to be clear, I am not referring to my husband or my kids.
I am worn out from living without Amy. I want to wave my white flag and surrender and call a truce with the very universe and all those in it who have hurt me along the way. One of my favorite sayings is hurt me once it’s your fault, hurt me again it’s my fault. I forget who coined that phrase and I am not professing that it came from me. Yet, I still believe that it’s true that we really do teach people how to treat us.
Before Devastation Day, many came to me to be their voice of reason; in part because I was not afraid to be straight with them. Since I was in high school, I was the friend who listened to your problems and gave great advice. That seemed to be my role in life for so many years. Over time, I found myself at the crossroads and started to notice while many dumped their problems on me, there were very few who listened to me or took the time to help me through my problems. Then one day I decided I did not like this role I had designed for myself. I started to withdraw. The change felt both liberating and lonely. No one knew what to do with me if I wasn’t playing my old song and dance so I rarely heard from them. I was no longer the friend you signed up for.
Yet, my role was never one of dependency on anyone because I had no idea how not to be in control. Fast forward to now. My role has changed again and this role is one where I need other people to help me find my way out from the dark tunnel of grief and despair.
Many don’t know what to do with the broken Dee. I see the look in their eyes and can almost hear them saying: “Are you in there? Come back, come back wherever you are?”
I admit I am so exhausted from being mad at the world, the people who have let me down and more importantly God! While I am lost existing in a world without my daughter, do I really want to spend the rest of my life pissed off? Isn’t it enough that I am living in a world without Amy?
Marianne Williamson says: pray for those who hurt you for 30 days and after 30 days, you will discover you won’t care or there will be a shift in the relationship. Check out this short video:
Marianne Williamson is my new hero. That’s all I want to share at the moment but suffice to say sometimes in life you just got to believe that Amy orchestrates miracles for me. Otherwise, I can think of no other explanation.
I will never ever get over losing Amy. Now some people may say that it’s my choice not to get over my daughter. But let me reassure anyone who is operating under this assumption, that the space in my heart that has always been reserved for Amy will always feel empty and I will miss her forever. I can and do continue to love her, but I am human, and I want all of my children here with me. Who would like to argue with me on that statement?
When friends and family get impatient because I am still so sick with grief, I wonder what part of their brain cannot comprehend what has happened to me, to my family and to our life? My son recently said his future is over and all he has is his past. The past where he was happy and his sister was here. Of course he is still grieving, but that statement makes me so sad and again I wonder how we will ever survive this? Time? I doubt that anyone would ever have the audacity to suggest in time I should forget about my daughter and move on?
Uh oh … Here I go again. I need to remind myself to return to love … Darn it’s hard! And now they want me to pray for those who hurt me?
Most people do not set out to hurt others. People are not perfect and say insensitive and stupid stuff. I wish I was more forgiving and I remind myself that I am far from perfect. However, I am broken and when I get hurt now, I am not able to bounce back as easily or use a logical mind to reset myself.
Living without your kid is complicated. You don’t choose to be sad and devastated. You don’t choose to cry numerous times a day. You don’t choose to still miss your child forever. You just do.
I find myself a little over two weeks away from Devastation Day at the crossroads again. The anger is getting too heavy to carry. I will try to send blessings for 30 days to those who hurt me. Guess I can’t say “blessings to you, jerk” for 30 days. I know. That would be wrong and negate the prayer so I will genuinely try harder … what’s a kinder word for jerk? No, seriously the intention is there somewhere in the midst of the pain.
Always remembering Amy and missing her more than words can say.