Saturday, December 12, 2009

Christmas, now and forever...

Yesterday I was thinking about getting through this Christmas without my kids...and how I've over planned and over scheduled so that I know for sure I won't have too much time to think...and I know I'll constantly be surrounded by friends. It occurred to me that maybe I will be able to make it through this year after all, when this thought popped into my head:

It's not just this Christmas...I have to get through every Christmas, every year, til the end of my time here on Earth without them.

That fucking sucks Santa's ass...and Rudolph's too!!! FUCK!!!

It may seem obvious to everyone else, but I was so focused on getting through this year that I temporarily forgot about the rest of time. I know all the stuff about "one day at a time" and "being in the moment" but really?!

I think one of the hardest things about this death/grief stuff is the permanence of all of it. Like, really, they're not coming back. I know they're here in spirit, but I prefer them with their bodies too.

I know I don't need to think about forever right now, but sometimes I do.

So there. I said it, it's out there and hopefully getting it out will make it feel a little more bearable. Thank you all for listening.


  1. You are right, that so fuckin sucks. I'm sorry that you have to feel like that, but I commend you for speaking up about your feelings. As busy as this time of year is, I know there are so many here that will keep checking back to see how you are doing during this holiday season. I'd gladly kick Santa in his butt or Rudolph for you too. ;)

  2. Amy,
    Just want you to know that alot of people are reading your blog and praying for you to get through this. Just keep going and remember what your kids would want for you. I'm just getting to know you and I respect and admire you.

  3. As you know, I read your blog on a regular basis (was just posting my lame request for donations to food bank, salvation army, etc. on mine - not sure anyone listens to me, but... noble causes anyway :-) - and saw your latest posting). It does just suck. I've been thinking a lot and missing people this season, and... some have been gone a few years, so... you know... you start to then think... when does the pain end - or does it ever end?? It's frustrating when even the good memories make you sad - photos both break your heart yet make you love that person (people - sweet angels :-) more and more. I don't know. I just feel awful for you, and I wish I could help, but... I can't. It is difficult for me to imagine the level of loss you've experienced except to know that it is absolutely tremendous. For what it's worth, I do think that the diversions are good -create new traditions - keep friends close - help you see new opportunities. It is a different life now - despite the fact that you will see in every happy moment in the near future the fact that your kids aren't here. I just wish you some peace this season. I know a lot of people do. Really - you have so many people thinking of you this year.

  4. My heart breaks for you. I'm so sorry you have to go through this and it is so not fair. As a total NON expert though, I will say that sometimes to get through tough times I have had to not think of tomorrow because the weight of today AND tomorrow AND the next day is sometimes too much to bear. This of course is considering I have never known the amount of pain you are going through, so I am not comparing. I know everyone tells you one day at a time and you're probably sick of hearing that, so I apologize in advance. Much love to you.

  5. You have really helped me to put life in perspective. I am so sorry that you are suffering and will continue to suffer deeply. I think of you often and have been following your blog. I pray that each day has some spot of brightness that allows you to celebrate the gift of your beautiful children. My heart and thoughts are with you.

  6. I wish I knew what to say, or something that would somehow help you feel a little bit better. But all I have is that you will continue to be in my thoughts and prayers. Thank you for sharing such an intensely personal experience with all of us. I hope that being able to talk here helps just a little bit.

  7. Amy-I've been thinking of you and the kids all day today while trying to do some shopping. It just sucks and I think if I'm feeling this sad, I can't imagine how you're feeling. I am soo sorry for your pain.
    But at the same time, I think how amazing you are that you have been able to push yourself through each day, sometimes even finding laughter in your friends and distractions. And I know sometimes you don't want to or don't care to and I really don't blame you....I don't think anyone would blame you if you decided to just stay in bed for days on end. But you haven't done that at all....You find the courage and strength to face each sucky as it is...and I think that is truly amazing. And it helps me to sometimes not feel as sad, cuz I think maybe you're feeling ok right now or maybe you're with friends laughing or Kate and Peter are with you giving you messages that give you some peace and comfort and I feel a lil hope and comfort in that.
    And I know that it could just be for a moment and the pain and sadness are there too, but allowing yourself some peace for even a moment takes strength and courage and I know Kate and Peter are very proud of their mama. You are inspiring and you are really helping alot of people by sharing your strength with them. Thank you for letting us all in. Love you.

  8. Amy, Your absolutely right about this sucking royally. I know 3 families in PGH that have lost children to tragedy this year alone, and Watching each family attempt to put themselves together is heart wrenching, because really, there is nothing we can do, except support and listen.
    I know you have to face the rest of your life with this suckitude, but really just let this Christmas suck, and leave the rest of them for later. Know that you are thought of on a regular basis in our family, and I thank you for putting reality in perspective not just for me and my family, but for hundreds of people that think of you as well.
    For whatever it's worth, I send you blessings, And prayers for a soothing balm for your heart.

  9. Thinking of you, during this Christmas, and always. We're all here for you, listening to you as you attempt to put your extraordinary grief into words. I commend you for voicing it, even when it's obvious that there really are no words. You are doing a GREAT job. Just get through this Christmas. Worry about next year, next year. Love to you

  10. Listening..that is all we can do in the long run...Words... my heart goes out to you but listening is what you need...To know no matter what you say and how you feel that we will be here for you to outflow your grief, anger, sadness...and we listen because we care...

    Much love to you dear Amy..
    Hug xxx

    PS yes, it frigging sucks!!

  11. It does suck. It sucks donkey balls. Please don't do what my family did the first year we celebrated without my mom. We acted like she wasn't in the empty chair at the end of the table because she was on a work trip or something. No one talked about her, no one said, "Boy, I miss Mom today". No one told any funny stories of her. We can now, but it took a while, and I think if we would have done that the first year, it would have made the rest that much more fun...Talk about the kids. Tell stories of their laughter and their tears and even their temper-tantrums (If they had any!).

  12. I wish I could say anything to make you feel better, but I know nothing can be said... it sucks ASS big time and it just pisses me off that any child has to die. And no parent should ever have to lose both of their kids, neverless even just one. You are so strong...

  13. Amy, while I haven't experienced the degree of tragedy that you have, I have lost loved ones and holidays are a rough time. I can't really say that it gets better, but it kind of, I guess, evolves into something thats not so painful. Try to keep your focus on getting through this year--the first year is usually the worst.

  14. Amy,

    I think of you and the kids all the time. Two days ago, Maya and I were looking at her ECS yearbook and we both stopped at Kate and Peter's page. There wasn't much to say; it was just a sad moment, and I was struck, as I so often am, by how fragile my life has become now that it is bound up with the lives of my kids. There ought to be a universal law that they can never die before we do.

    All I can say is that you are often on my mind, and your children are, too. I never forget about them or about you, even though I don't know you well.

    The other day, a friend going through a rough time said, "Everything happens for a reason."

    All I could think is, well, you're right about the first part. As for the reason, I don't know.