What I wish I could tell you...

My Sweet C,

I wish I could tell you that I miss your smile.  

That every time I wake up in the morning, I tiptoe by your room and whisper a silent prayer that today will be the day.  Today you will see your value and find your strength.

I wish I could tell you that it hurts me.

Hearing that you feel sad and that I can't take that away pains me.  To see tears roll down your face and hear you apologize for worrying me hurts me because I can't make it better but I would give anything to be able to.

I wish I could tell you feelings aren't right or wrong, they simply are.

Please don't ever mask your feelings for me because I want to know.  Sharing the weight on your shoulders helps (you AND me).

I wish I could tell you I know this is BIG.

Friendships are important.  They are important through life and learning that someone is not your friend or is not the person you thought they were is hard at any age.  Clarity can hurt but it can also help you see better things ahead.

I wish I could tell you I'm sorry.

Searching my brain for words that will somehow help you is exhausting and frustrating because I am failing miserably.  I sometimes say things I don't want to and I wish I could take back.   To be better is something I'll keep striving for.  I feel like I'm failing miserably and I'm sorry for that.

I wish I could tell you that it will be OK.

Because I know it will.  There have been times when I was 8, 10, 12, 16, 20, 24 and 27 when I thought I would die.  I didn't think I'd make it through and somehow I took a breath in... and out... and in... and time gifted me wisdom. I know it will you too.

I wish I could tell you how beautiful you are.

I love your kind heart, the way you can weave a beautiful story with your words.  I love watching you dance and being able to feel your emotion by just watching you.  I love seeing how effortless you make soccer look and noticing you try to suppress a smile when you score.  I love your quiet observations and your loud laugh.  Everything sweet and flawed about you is perfection to me. It makes you, YOU!

I wish I could tell you it's important to fail.

Not scoring well on a test, forgetting a dance step or falling down in front of everyone will not break you.  It will grow you.  You will be smarter, dance stronger and walk taller than you ever would have imagined.

I wish I could tell you that failing does hurt.

But being able to pick yourself up off the floor will help you see the world from a different view and an important one.  You will see others through an empathetic lens.  A lens I wish the world could look through.

I wish I could tell you I love you more than you will ever know and that you'd understand.

I don't know that this will ever be possible but I'll keep telling you anyway.

I wish I could lead you down every right road and safe path...

But then I would be doing you a great disservice.  For I know that it is in times like these that we truly discover WHO we are and how amazingly strong we are.

You will get through this and I will be here waiting.

Oh how I wish I could tell you how I miss your smile.  Your laugh. Your care-free ways.

But I know that life is a complicated place and you're finding your way.  

I wish I could tell you I'm always with you, because I am.  Part of me is always in you and part of you is always in me.  We are linked forever.

I won't be able to tell you these things until you're back.  Until I see that sparkle again and we can look back on this time, smile through shared tears, and know we made it.

And then I will brace myself for the next time and pray (like I am now) that you'll come out of it a strong and even more amazing person!

Life is hard. Life is beautiful.

Your flawed but trying,

~Mom

It's not easy...

A little warning that this post is about one of my rainbows and if your loss is fresh, please don't read this post.  I know after you lose a child the last thing you may want to read is about how someone WITH a child is having a difficult time.  I also know though that sometimes we (the Secret Society) give a little leeway when it comes to a Rainbow or a mom who gets loss because she's walked these shoes.

My first Rainbow has been having a tough time lately.  It (what she's going through) has been running through my mind so often that it has been difficult to sleep or focus on other things that need my attention.  I've been looking back at my parenting to see what it is I could have done to have this happen.  Reminds me of when Andrew and E died... how could I have done this... What could I have done differently.

My daughter has been suffering from some pretty major anxiety.  I'm not quite sure where it has come from or why, but what I am now certain of is that she's going to be OK.  I don't know when, but I'm certain of it.  I have that hope.  I have that truth.

My daughter loves to write (imagine that) and I feel has been so strong because she's perhaps learned a lesson that takes most of us (me included) a lot longer to figure out.  When you ask for help or tell someone what you're going through a little of the weight you're carrying gets shared and the journey become bearable.  She has been able to write about her feelings and while I don't like hearing how she feels that she will be "swept away in a hurricane of tears," I am glad that she did share that with me. I have felt that way.  None of these feelings is unique to one person... in fact, when you start talking, you realize that we're more the same than we are different.

Taking her lead of sharing, I have sought out my own weight carriers.  The members of the Secret Society who walked with me ~carried me even sometimes~ when I couldn't go it alone.  I shared and realized that I am not alone in this... my child is not alone in this... There are many who are sitting alone wondering where. how. when. why.

I feel like that happened today.  I shared our story and my friends shared theirs and somehow this weight we've been carrying just got lighter.  My time is now.  Her time is now.  It's not easy but nothing worth having ever has been.  I'm getting up.  We're putting one foot in front of the other. We'll get there.

Together.