Tomorrow marks 10 years that your light has not been here with us. I miss you baby girl. Every day you cross my mind. Sometimes with tears, sometimes with a smile.
Whenever a butterfly crosses my path I know it is you saying hi. It always makes me smile and remember our talks about transformation and starting over. Drake looks just like you and I hear your laugh every time I get your boy rolling. It’s like a double win.
We had a gathering last weekend to celebrate your life. We talked about how much my life has changed since you died. I am not even close to the same person I was when you were alive. Most of my energy then was spent on helping you through your life and assisting you with Drake. Always feeling like I was failing and struggling daily to find the right words to make you want to stay and find your happy.
Now my life seems to be about helping others not go through this type of pain, honoring others loved ones who have passed, creating a business that adds smiles to the world in many different ways. Basically I am just trying to make this world, that you chose to leave, a better place for others that are struggling. To make your loss mean something.
The friends that were in attendance last Saturday were not the friends I had when you were here. I believe there are many reasons why the others didn’t attend. Some walked away 100% right after the memorial. Some later when they couldn’t handle my sadness. Most I believe don’t come around because they find it uncomfortable when I talk about you and they don’t know how to deal with being uncomfortable. Losing a child is the worst pain ever. It’s an ache that will always be part of my heart. I refuse to let others behaviors about their feelings stop me from sharing you with them.
I talk about you just like I talk about your brother. You are both my children, why wouldn’t I talk about both of you. Just because you died doesn’t mean you didn’t live. I won’t stop sharing about either of my children and their families.
I didn’t mean for this to become a rambling of so many of my different feelings. I guess the anniversary of your death makes me want to share about all the messed up thoughts in my head.
I don’t like that others actions cause me pain. I am so tired of hurting. I am tired of the sadness. I am tired of missing you. I am tired of being the mother of a dead child. None of it will ever change. I can’t fix this one for me, for your son, for your brother. This is a hurt that can’t be mended and others will not understand how they make it even harder. I hate it. Hate it with a capital H.
Ten years and I still feel like it just happened. That day I found you is etched into my heart and mind. There are residual affects from that morning. They call it PTSD. It happens every time someone is late, or someone didn’t call as expected, or someone slept in late, or someone doesn’t show up, or someone didn’t answer the phone. It starts me panicking that something is wrong. My mind starts creating stories that are awful and untrue but the panic still sets in. It is just another side affect of your loss that I hate with a capital H.
Kat, I remember the day you came into this world and the day you left it. I just want to find the right place in my head where I can just celebrate all the days in between. The good ones and the bad ones. I want to stop the hurting and feel the happy of having you for 22 years. It’s so easy to say and so hard to do.
I will keep trying. I will keep trying to make your life and loss mean something. I will keep trying to celebrate your brother’s life and his family without worrying about losing them too. I will find joy in watching your son grow into a nice young man and not worry that he will hurt forever because of losing you. I will keep trying to find my happy with a capital H. That feeling suits me better.
I love you baby girl. I always will.
One thought on “Capital H”
Thank you for sharing your story.Big hugs to you and your family. What you said about someone being late, not showing up, or doesn’t answer the phone.I know all to well. Your mind goes in a totally different mode. And it’s usually the worst. And I dont understand people (mostly family) that chose not to talk about our children.And yes I think about Sonny everyday all day.And the nights are worse sleepless nights makes our everyday living terrible. And no we are not the same anymore. God bless you, and thank you once again for sharing your story and feelings.It has helped me alot. Love, Sonny Lee’s forever mom.😘😇