life lessons that can't be taught..

Dear Amelia and Bella,
I haven't kept up with the blog much since moving back to the US. Sorry about that my girls. I'll try to do better. But it is with a huge heavy heart that I write this blog post.

Grief and grieving

This is not something I will ever be able to teach you. Unfortunately because the only way to understand it is to go through it. I can't protect you from it either. On December 14, I got a phone call that I will never forget....'they are working on your mom"...WHAT?? I just spoke to her this morning what's going on?. From start to finish..about 1 hour, trauma began and ended for Grandma Peggy.. 'mom' to me.. She suddenly couldn't breathe, told Papa to call 911...then her body quit.  There was no fighting for her life, no life support, no hospital stay, no machines to pull....and no warning. Perhaps that is a good way to go, but for those of us she left behind, it ripped my heart to pieces.

When friends lost loved ones in their life I always said a prayer for them and their family. But I didn't know what to say. I did't know if they wanted to talk about their loved one. And if I talked about it, it would become real to me. So to those people, I'm sorry. Because I know I WANT TO TALK ABOUT HER! I WANT YOU TO TALK ABOUT HER. SHE LIVED LARGE AND HER LIFE IS WORTH TALKING ABOUT!
The only other close loss I experienced was losing my grandmother. It hurt really badly, but I just looked at how grateful I was for our memories. But losing my mother was A MILLION  times harder than I could have ever imagined. As a friend put it, IT CHANGED MY DNA. It's all I think about. It cripples me at any given time of the day... a waterfall of tears.

You see, nothing can prepare you for this grief. This feeling of being lost, the physical pain,  the series of questions I have for God and the anger inside of me. My mom was a huge giving person. She loved hard and prayed hard. I could call her with a story of anyone needing prayers or help, and she volunteered to both. She was anyones biggest supporter.  She often visited the gravesite of the "Cajun Saint' Charlene Richard because she loved that Charlene took on the suffering of those in need at the young age of 12. My mom and dad had visited her grave just a day or two before my moms passing....to pray for my Uncle who was ill and for his children who were at his bedside.   But I can't help but ask where was God during that one hour of prayers when we asked for him to save her. I know..it's wrong to think that way...but I can't help but ask.
But there was no going to a gravesite, there was no prayer warrior chain, just a kind loving woman ripped from our lives right before her favorite holiday...Christmas. This is not how it was supposed to happen. I just moved from halfway around the world to be near her. This was going to be our first Christmas together in 5 years. She was looking forward to it, and so were we. Instead, it was a day filled with tears and a hurt so deep, it shuts you down.
The other part of this grief is trying to figure out a new normal for yourself and at the same time watching my dad, who built his life around my mom, especially in the last several years, completely
devastated. A man who I grew up with, never seeing a soft emotional side, completely in pieces and lost without the love of his life. Seeing a man who doesn't want to go on without her. A man praying hard to get to heaven so that he can be with her again. ....and yet there is nothing I can do to help him. How can I help him when I can't even help myself.
Then there are my girls. They loved their grandma. They texted and facetimed her often.  But now they have been given the job of grief helper to their mother. One of my girls can't handle that job. She internalizes it all, can't fix it, so she shuts down.  She could hardly stand to be in the viewing room at the funeral home, sitting mostly in the entrance outside of the room. She went 6 days without eating much. Barely stomached a piece of toast...refusing to talk about anything going on...and frankly, I didn't have the energy or strength to help her. The other daughter just sits quietly with me as I weep, gently rubbing my hand. Both so young to understand this.
And my husband who has wept with me and has been so supportive and watches me sit and cry daily..

So now the 'dust' has settled, I am supposed to go on. Back to routine. But it's hard. So hard.

So to my daughters, my friends, my husband... thank you for your support, your shoulders I cried on, the cards in the mail, the texts, your presence, and your Facebook messages. It keeps me going when I find myself in a dark place.

Mom taught Bella how to make a wreath.