What Normal Is Now

[Beauty for Ashes 257]

My mother passed away when I was nine years old of brain cancer. She fought it for 11 months before it finally took her. I think she knew my father couldn't handle being a single parent and really wanted to live. The hospice nurses said they never saw anyone fight harder and want to live more than my mother. I didn't get to say goodbye. They thought they were doing my brother and I a favor by sending us off to some grandparents on the weekend she would die. It had been confirmed before I got home from school on Friday but no one told us. They just asked if we wanted to go visit our grandparents and we were too young to realize it was the end for my mother. I was angry for years because they tricked us. My last goodbye was a quick hug and kiss to my mother who was in a wheel chair by that time. She was getting fairly out of it by then so I'm not sure she even knew it was the last. I do know that by the next day she was in a coma and still she cried out me and brother's names.

My father tried to be strong at first. He made it about a year as everyone wanted to take me and my brother away from him so he thought he had something to prove. Instinct made me and my brother want to be with our dad because we had lost one parent and didn't want the other one out of sight. We were like pieces of my mother so he didn't want to lose us as well. He loved us, but he loved her in a way only true love can. After one year he fell apart. Started drinking, missing work, stopped cooking or buying food. After awhile our dinner came in dollar bills for the vending machines at the apartments. That or pizza. I couldn't eat pizza for years because of that. We only survived because of the social security we got for my mother's death. My father kept losing any jobs he got and it was a roller coaster ride of not knowing when he would be sober and trying or drinking and oblivious. My brother and I covered for him. Most of our family had no idea what was going on. We knew they would take us from him so we took care of ourselves. We would get up for school, get ourselves ready, eat what we could find and wear what clothes we had from before or what our friends gave us that they didn't want anymore. My grandfather would offer to take me shopping and I always acted like I didn't need much though I desperately did. I don't think I got my first bra until two years after I had really needed one and that was after one of my grandmother's realized the problem. They didn't get suspicious of my dad because of course he is a man and wouldn't know what I might need.

I mourned my mother's loss alone, at night in my bedroom. Some nights I could hear my brother muffling his crying and other nights I would walk in on my father in the living room in the dark crying silently. It wasn't easy by any means and I can't even handle a movie where the mother passes away (even if it is an animal). I know they pain and wouldn't want any child to face death at such a young age. I only have vague memories of my mother now. I know she used to put sweet notes in my lunches. She made me soup when I was sick. She sat with me through every book when I learned to read. I just regret that I never got to know the real her. The one you see after you get a little older. I just try to live through the memories of other family members as my father can't talk about her without getting upset. It has been 19 years, but he has never married again and barely dated.

The ironic part is, and I haven't brought this up to my husband but December 10th was the day she died. I am hoping his coming here on that day will replace the sadness I normally feel on that day. Now I can think it is the day I finally got to be with my husband. Maybe God was giving me a sign, I don't know.

I think it is a sign...You loved her so much...and his love is going to help you remove December 10th. Ironically, my son died on my fathers birthday and that was the first time in my adult life that I had forgotten to call him on his birthday. My older brother killed himself when he was 16 and my father had seen my baby and was all excited about him and held him so much.. He hasnt spoken of the baby one time since he died and refused to see his grave...Taking care of your other kids is the way I think you show the deceased person you love them. Your grandparents maybe knew that the cancer had progressed too far and they wanted you to remember still being able to talk to you or cry out your names....sometimes people make decisions and we get mad at them but part of getting better is letting that anger go...My father had kept me and my half sister apart for years because of my brothers suicide and his unwillingness to deal with it. I am starting to think that women are a little better at processing grief than men... maybe its because they are taught to repress things so much...

Death is like a movie...we watch it happen to other people and sometimes..just sometimes... a movie begins to play inside of us reminding us of things that happened. People say things to me that maybe upset me and then the movie begins to play inside me reminding me that whatever anyone says cant be nearly as bad as losing my beloved.... But life is about loss... some of us get more than our fair share...

Your early loss got you ready to love your husband and offer comfort and support to him and the patience to ride out war...pain... seperation and setbacks.. because you know that this separation is only temporary

Good luck s and s....and I know you will be an amazing, compassionate and story reading , soup making mommy

love HIT

[S and S 12]

My mother passed away when I was nine years old of brain cancer. She fought it for 11 months before it finally took her. I think she knew my father couldn't handle being a single parent and really wanted to live. The hospice nurses said they never saw anyone fight harder and want to live more than my mother. I didn't get to say goodbye. They thought they were doing my brother and I a favor by sending us off to some grandparents on the weekend she would die. It had been confirmed before I got home from school on Friday but no one told us. They just asked if we wanted to go visit our grandparents and we were too young to realize it was the end for my mother. I was angry for years because they tricked us. My last goodbye was a quick hug and kiss to my mother who was in a wheel chair by that time. She was getting fairly out of it by then so I'm not sure she even knew it was the last. I do know that by the next day she was in a coma and still she cried out me and brother's names.

My father tried to be strong at first. He made it about a year as everyone wanted to take me and my brother away from him so he thought he had something to prove. Instinct made me and my brother want to be with our dad because we had lost one parent and didn't want the other one out of sight. We were like pieces of my mother so he didn't want to lose us as well. He loved us, but he loved her in a way only true love can. After one year he fell apart. Started drinking, missing work, stopped cooking or buying food. After awhile our dinner came in dollar bills for the vending machines at the apartments. That or pizza. I couldn't eat pizza for years because of that. We only survived because of the social security we got for my mother's death. My father kept losing any jobs he got and it was a roller coaster ride of not knowing when he would be sober and trying or drinking and oblivious. My brother and I covered for him. Most of our family had no idea what was going on. We knew they would take us from him so we took care of ourselves. We would get up for school, get ourselves ready, eat what we could find and wear what clothes we had from before or what our friends gave us that they didn't want anymore. My grandfather would offer to take me shopping and I always acted like I didn't need much though I desperately did. I don't think I got my first bra until two years after I had really needed one and that was after one of my grandmother's realized the problem. They didn't get suspicious of my dad because of course he is a man and wouldn't know what I might need.

I mourned my mother's loss alone, at night in my bedroom. Some nights I could hear my brother muffling his crying and other nights I would walk in on my father in the living room in the dark crying silently. It wasn't easy by any means and I can't even handle a movie where the mother passes away (even if it is an animal). I know they pain and wouldn't want any child to face death at such a young age. I only have vague memories of my mother now. I know she used to put sweet notes in my lunches. She made me soup when I was sick. She sat with me through every book when I learned to read. I just regret that I never got to know the real her. The one you see after you get a little older. I just try to live through the memories of other family members as my father can't talk about her without getting upset. It has been 19 years, but he has never married again and barely dated.

The ironic part is, and I haven't brought this up to my husband but December 10th was the day she died. I am hoping his coming here on that day will replace the sadness I normally feel on that day. Now I can think it is the day I finally got to be with my husband. Maybe God was giving me a sign, I don't know.

I think it is a sign...You loved her so much...and his love is going to help you remove December 10th. Ironically, my son died on my fathers birthday and that was the first time in my adult life that I had forgotten to call him on his birthday. My older brother killed himself when he was 16 and my father had seen my baby and was all excited about him and held him so much.. He hasnt spoken of the baby one time since he died and refused to see his grave...Taking care of your other kids is the way I think you show the deceased person you love them. Your grandparents maybe knew that the cancer had progressed too far and they wanted you to remember still being able to talk to you or cry out your names....sometimes people make decisions and we get mad at them but part of getting better is letting that anger go...My father had kept me and my half sister apart for years because of my brothers suicide and his unwillingness to deal with it. I am starting to think that women are a little better at processing grief than men... maybe its because they are taught to repress things so much...

Death is like a movie...we watch it happen to other people and sometimes..just sometimes... a movie begins to play inside of us reminding us of things that happened. People say things to me that maybe upset me and then the movie begins to play inside me reminding me that whatever anyone says cant be nearly as bad as losing my beloved.... But life is about loss... some of us get more than our fair share...

Your early loss got you ready to love your husband and offer comfort and support to him and the patience to ride out war...pain... seperation and setbacks.. because you know that this separation is only temporary

Good luck s and s....and I know you will be an amazing, compassionate and story reading , soup making mommy

love HIT

Thanks girl, I appreciate your words and I agree with you. The pain of loss is never easy no matter who it is. You really have done well with things. Don't let anyone tell you how to grieve. Do it in your way. Each of us is different. Just don't block it out totally as that is unhealthy. The poems you write are beautiful and an excellent way to get your emotions out. Definitely keep the writing up.

[venusfire503 54]

I'm glad someone else had the courage to say that they hate when people try to use God to rationalize the death of a child and "make it better". I had a miscarriage years ago, and wanted to punch people (as horrible as it sounds, it's true) when they said things like "it's God's will" - what can that do, other than maybe make the grieving have bad feelings towards God? I heard the excuse that "maybe there was something wrong with the baby - it's for the best". Again, I wanted to punch the person. I told people I trusted that I didn't care if the kid had three heads - I just wanted my baby! Seriously, the best thing I heard was from a neighbor - a kind of awkward guy who was kind of shy. He said "I don't know what to say". I wish I could let him know how strangely comforting that was to hear. I couldn't verbalize it at the time, and we lost contact (he ended up moving).

Oh, and for the people who say "God never gives us more than we can handle", a woman I met had a good response to that. If that were true, why is there so much drug/alcohol abuse, suicides, etc? Sometimes it's hard to get help from friends, family, or even from God. Yes, it's possible to be so low that you have to pick yourself up enough to even reach out to God. It's a scary place to be.

I know people are (at least in most cases) just trying to be helpful and/or just have no clue what to say. But that doesn't make it easier for us to hear.

It's horrible what you've been through, and it doesn't completely end. I hope and pray that you find peace somehow. God and friends, and even prescriptions can help. It does get easier with time - but you'll still get 'caught' sometimes even years later (as I did, when reading your post) and cry. It's been 9-1/2 years for me. People are thinking about you and praying for you. It's good that you reach out to them. I wasn't able to do that for a long time. It was 2 weeks before I would even answer the door or the phone. And it doesn't help when the father is 'absent' in any way. My ex didn't even react - said it wasn't really 'real' to him.

It's also good that you don't let people tell you what's 'normal'. What's normal for one person isn't what's normal for another. Keep going through the motions when you can, crawl into bed and cry when you need to. Remember that people do care.

Best wishes.

[Beauty for Ashes 257]

I'm glad someone else had the courage to say that they hate when people try to use God to rationalize the death of a child and "make it better". I had a miscarriage years ago, and wanted to punch people (as horrible as it sounds, it's true) when they said things like "it's God's will" - what can that do, other than maybe make the grieving have bad feelings towards God? I heard the excuse that "maybe there was something wrong with the baby - it's for the best". Again, I wanted to punch the person. I told people I trusted that I didn't care if the kid had three heads - I just wanted my baby! Seriously, the best thing I heard was from a neighbor - a kind of awkward guy who was kind of shy. He said "I don't know what to say". I wish I could let him know how strangely comforting that was to hear. I couldn't verbalize it at the time, and we lost contact (he ended up moving).

Oh, and for the people who say "God never gives us more than we can handle", a woman I met had a good response to that. If that were true, why is there so much drug/alcohol abuse, suicides, etc? Sometimes it's hard to get help from friends, family, or even from God. Yes, it's possible to be so low that you have to pick yourself up enough to even reach out to God. It's a scary place to be.

I know people are (at least in most cases) just trying to be helpful and/or just have no clue what to say. But that doesn't make it easier for us to hear.

It's horrible what you've been through, and it doesn't completely end. I hope and pray that you find peace somehow. God and friends, and even prescriptions can help. It does get easier with time - but you'll still get 'caught' sometimes even years later (as I did, when reading your post) and cry. It's been 9-1/2 years for me. People are thinking about you and praying for you. It's good that you reach out to them. I wasn't able to do that for a long time. It was 2 weeks before I would even answer the door or the phone. And it doesn't help when the father is 'absent' in any way. My ex didn't even react - said it wasn't really 'real' to him.

It's also good that you don't let people tell you what's 'normal'. What's normal for one person isn't what's normal for another. Keep going through the motions when you can, crawl into bed and cry when you need to. Remember that people do care.

Best wishes.

Thanks.. but the important thing is that we stay alive and happy enough to write the next chapter of the story. We are all writing one with our lives if we know it or not...I am waiting for the next chapter...Every beautiful story has sad parts... but there may be more to read.. But I have to stay alive some how to write more....

[amal 4]

I lost someone about 5 years ago. They didn't pass-away but they might as well have. I had been with that person for almost 3 years and he was my whole world. I've moved on with my life but there isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of him and feel a pull in my heart for losing him. I don't think I'll ever fully get over what happened. I literally did nothing but cry for around 6 months. I barely slept, barely ate....The second I woke up and realized my new reality, I had to relive the feeling of my heart shattering once again. It was awful. I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy.

Then there was the time that God almost took my son away from me. My son was 2 years old and diagnosed with Aplastic Anemia (which is a form of cancer/leukemia) By the time we got him to the children's hospital, his platelets were down to 3000 and the doctors were shocked that he was still able to hang on. We fought for 3 years with him clinging to life by a thread. Each moment wondering if it would be our last moment. We went for transfusions once a week ..sometimes 2 or 3 times a week. We had to give him 5 injections every day in his belly, arms, and legs. We were in the process of figuring out how the funeral would go and where to bury him. One day his platelets held on tight and we went more than 7 days without a transfusion. He slowly started coming back to us and luckily he is here with us today and going strong. That is also something i would never wish upon any of my enemies.

I didn't actually lose my son but we were right there on the edge, and it was scary. I can't offer any words of advice on how to handle the situation. All I can do is be a sounding board and offer my shoulder whenever needed in the hopes that it will help eventually. In the end...U gotta do what U gotta do to get thru the day/night/week/month/year and that's all U can do. Keep posting and sharing ur feelings until you don't feel the need to anymore...then start tellin us other stuff that's what we're here for!

amal