Despite reading numerous books, attending numerous support groups and pouring my honest heart out in counseling for most of the last three years, I have come to the conclusion I am not wired to lose my child.
Of course I realize I am not the only mother to have one of their children die, but if I am honest and I usually am, it truly does feel as though I am the only mother who is drowning in this living hell. Oh I am so sick of the disclaimers I am expected to add about how happy I am for others as they skip merrily along unscaithed. Yeah, yeah, no one is granted immunity. Blah blah. Quite frankly, it still hurts to witness happy. That has not changed in three years nor have I wished anyone I know to carry this heavy cross of child loss.
Friday is Amy’s birthday. Her birthday gift which I bought prior to my devastation day, August 4, 2013 remains in the Amazon box. I cannot bring myself to touch that unopened box because it screams my reality that my Amy died 8 days before her birthday. WTF!!!!
You know what? I really don’t care if I am the only blogger, which I know I am not, ranting three years later about how devastated I remain that my youngest child died. Trust me that I have tried everything to move through this but at the end of the day, Amy is still dead and that will never be okay. Nope. It is totally unacceptable.
Going to the cemetery to make sure her grave reflects someone who was here and loved will never get easier. Sometimes I just sit in the car and weep. Many times I refuse to look at her lonely name. My beautiful sweet girl has dates on both sides of that hyphen. My family tree hurts.
Forever in our hearts is written on the tombstone as well as on a marker in our memorial garden in our yard. That memorial garden does not give me peace. Instead its a tragic reminder of this horrible chapter in my life and not of my Amy who loved to sit in our peaceful back yard. Amy loved our gardens and one day she brought me a garden stone which reads: “Mom, I know God loves me because He gave me you.” Now that stone sits in her memorial garden. What would I do if it ever breaks or cracks? The treasures and memories are all we have left. Blah blah blah to that too because I will always want my girl back and never ever get used to Amy being a “memory.”
As shattered as I feel inside, I will always be grateful that Amy graced my life. And if I knew how it would end, I wouldn’t trade a minute of her precious short life in order to save me a lifetime of this horrible pain. I may not be wired to be a bereaved mother, but I assure you I was wired perfectly to be Amy’s Mom. Death can not change that I am Amy’s Forever Mom and she will always be my Amy, forever in my broken heart.
Always remembering Amy.