Sunday. Father’s Day. As many remembered and/or honored their own father yesterday, there are fathers among us who are living without a child which adds a new level of discomfort and sorrow to the day. My husband is an excellent father and it pains me that he not only knows the loss of his own father but is also a father living with the unnatural loss of one of his children. Amy would have given her father some over the top expensive gift. Money was never an object for my generous one. Her absence is a flashing neon light with an alarm which randomly goes off depending where you step each and every day.
Having recently recovered from Mother’s Day, I know how difficult and complicated Father’s Day is for a parent living without their child. Our children have always made it a point to honor us as parents and I cannot remember a Mother’s Day or Father’s Day weekend where we did not see our children — well, until death happened and stole Amy. Yes, I know what many are thinking that we are still blessed to have our two older children so stop belly aching about losing one when you still have two. A big long sigh to the stupidity which prompts that comment. Each child holds a unique place in your heart … I am going to stop right here because those that don’t get it by now will never ever get it. And stop telling me to count my blessings. Another stupid comment … Parents who lose a child never lose sight of who is still here … If I could, I would put my two children in a bubble to protect them because I worry all of the time that God or the universe has its own plan. Heaven knows my earnest prayers did not save Amy.
It is beyond weird existing without a child. My day never holds promise or hope. My day begins and ends with the desperate lonely still shocking reality of the unnatural order of the death of a child. In a little over 6 weeks we will once again come face to face with that tragic day on a calendar.
Despite facing my grief head-on, I cannot wrap my mind and heart around what happened. Some days I still find myself silently screaming: stop the world, I want to get off! If you are a parent living without a child, you may be able to relate to where those words come from … It has nothing at all to do with who is here and everything to do with who is not, amplified by unimaginable pain.
After almost two years, I realize I am still trying to get people to understand, but it is impossible. I see the blank look on their faces when I try to explain it. While I am blessed with many compassionate friends and family, there are those who are unable to grasp the devastation a parent carries when the worst thing that could happen, happens.
Grief can sure make your old address book lighter. It boggles my mind as I realize that there are people in our lives who paint boundaries to keep us from trespassing on their lives as a means of staying in their happy place. They hoard their time AS IF we are attempting to taint their happiness. Trust me, trust me, trust me — you have nothing I want. I want Amy. Hey, universe, are grievers the only ones who have to learn life lessons? Just wondering?
Why do grievers so intensely feel the ramifications of those clueless ones instead of turning their focus towards the beautiful kindness which is bestowed upon them? That is one I am working on myself.
Sunday’s, Mothers Day, Father’s Day, birthdays, holidays, every day will never be the same. New normal sucks. All the focus on creating a new normal is bullshit. Like it or not, death steals your old life and you are standing in the middle of the new normal hell the minute your loved one evolves to their new dimension. Distractions help, but not for long. Staying compulsively busy is helpful. Spending time with family and friends who “get it” and even those who don’t, but try, has pulled us along on the days we were faltering. We are blessed, but not in the way my heart wishes we would be. No amount of time, pep talks, chirpy books about living beyond loss or efforts to reset me will ever change that now. THERE IS NO SILVER LINING! Yes, I embrace my daughter in spirit, but until you have to do it, you have no idea what I am being asked to do — even if you are blessed to have an amazing Amy!
I still want my daughter back.
Always remembering Amy.