Saturday, April 2, 2011

-post card- my wishes

After the kids died I remember I was frustrated. If I could only have a few wishes granted- just three- it would have helped me tremendously as I went thru the process. Here's what they would have been.

Wish one would have been the obvious I wanted my kids back, that the awful accident that took their lives had never happened, that it was all some terrible dream. That I would turn over in my bed, my husband would wake me up with my usual hug and a cup of coffee and life would go on as usual. But we all know that was not going to happen. And although I didn't get bogged down in a lot of “what if’s” or "if only-s” I did indulge in this wish if only for a moment.......

My second wish was that my grief/pain and the journey that I was about to take came with an instruction manual. I didn’t know what to do if what I was feeling was right, if I was going crazy. I desperately wanted someone-anyone to tell me to do this on this day feel this on this day, something suited just for me. Too much of what I went thru was frankly “about me” and nobody had the answers I needed because it was personal. It scared the pants off me more often than not, never knowing what to expect next. Up one day, down the next it is so disheartening; it really is, and everyone heals in their own way, so who knew? I would more times than often get impatient with myself, my healing seemed to move at glacial speed if you ask me.  It was hard not to compare myself to others, to feed off their pain so I avoided those who were in my circumstances and used a therapist for support.

And my third wish was that I wanted “it” to be over, when in fact it’s never really over. What I really wanted and tried to do was to rush to get past the pain- because pain is"it". But the fact is there was more than one "it" in my reality, there were two. And unfortunately there's no getting past either of them. I had to feel every stinking bit of the first one; the pain. I've mentioned this before; I did a lot of suffering when my children died and I can’t imagine a mother or father who wouldn't. It is a necessary part of the healing and I found that out. I had to set aside wanting to be strong, wanting to do what I thought everyone else expected of me and just gave myself permission to feel whatever I felt without judging myself.

The other "it" I have come to understand is the journey itself, that will be the rest of my life. The bond I have with my children cannot be broken, not even by death.... so now I just live the best I know how.     
 “Birds sing after a storm; why shouldn't people feel a free to delight in whatever remains to them?” 
Rose Kennedy


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