Monday, September 27, 2010

What can I write that I haven't already written?

Everyday is basically the same. I experience same crazy kaleidoscope of emotions with slight variations in order and intensity, but really - they're the same.

I still wake up every morning and think, "Wait...what? My kids are dead?" as I wrote many months ago. That's usually followed by my best attempt at denial and disbelief after which I inevitably move into a state of confusion and anger.

Lately I've found myself asking my friends, "Were they real? Were they really here? Are you sure?!" It's been so long since I've seen or held or talked to my kids that it doesn't seem as if they could have been real.

And I fear that I'm forgetting. That's awful.

So I sit down to blog and think, "I've already said all of this." It really is the same same shit, different day scenario. And it's getting old. Real old.

This is the point at which I wish and hope and pray that maybe this is a game and someone is gonna come down form the heavens and say, "Ok, you've done enough. You've lasted a year and a half without them, you've proved your strength and now you can have your kids back." It's completely delusional, but I don't care. I want them back.

I know you've read all of this before which is why I haven't written lately. I don't want to subject you to the same posts over and over and over again. But I guess this blog is supposed to be my journey and, unfortunately, this is it.

I'm guessing that other parents who have lost children feel the same way. I'm also guessing that this is pretty much how we're gonna feel forever.

I try really hard to experience joy and happiness in my life. And I do sometimes, really. I mean, in less than two weeks I get to marry a wonderful and amazing man, who I love very much. That's exciting! It gives me hope for the future and brings me joy! Unfortunately, that hope and joy is matched by an equal amount of sadness and guilt.

I know that it's ok to be happy. I know my kids would want me to be happy. I also know that it will never feel right to be happy when my kids are dead. It just won't. And that's the way it is.

As I'm typing I'm thinking that maybe I need to stop judging my emotions as good or bad. I'll try to take a more Buddhist approach and experience them as they come without attaching a value to them. If I'm sad I'm sad. If I'm happy, so be it. It just is. I'll see how that goes.

I have about 300,000 things to do in the next two weeks, for which I'm actually thankful. I'm looking forward to this new stage of my life. So I'm gonna go get started. I'll do my best to keep writing - happy or sad - and let you know what's going on. As always, thank you for reading and commenting and praying and sending love. It helps more than you could ever know.


  1. I don't know about anyone else, but I'd rather hear the same old shit than nothing at all! We worry about you when you don't write. Good luck with the wedding and please be happy to be happy!

  2. I do think that is a good plan - let the emotions come - experience them - deal with them - and don't make apologies, feel guilty or try to figure out why they come in such strange waves. I can tell you honestly that, through you and your blog, I have gotten to know your sweet, sweet kiddies - and, to this day, your experience and their short, happy lives have changed the way I view my day to day - I think others here would echo the same sentiment. Good luck with your wedding plans - and be happy that day - think of Kate and Peter - you may be a little sad, but .... this is your life - you have set their legacy in motion, and.... it WILL all come together. As always, I know you miss them, and I'm so sad for you. I wish they were here too.

  3. Happy or sad, I want to hear how your days are too! You are amazing and your children are as well. Kate and Peter are always with you. Even if you are not thinking about them at certain times, they are always with you.
    Sending MANY prayers and love,

  4. I've been reading your blog for several months now. I lately started reading the blog of another woman who also lost 2 children. And, I've worried about both you and her, and then I worried about myself for wanting everything to be all right for you both since you're strangers to me. You sometimes get a sense your kids are around you, so maybe it won't sound weird that I worried I'd found your blog for a reason. Like, I somehow needed to prepare for something tragic myself.

    Earlier this month, my brother died in a car accident. We weren't really close, but we didn't fight. Last time I saw him, one of things I told him was that "I wasn't going to love him to death." (Jeff Vanvondern from Intervention) I was only half joking. He struggled with a lot of demons. I keep telling myself...I don't believe it. I know it's true, but I don't think I believe it because I just did the most mundane thing like fell asleep in front of the TV or loaded the dishwasher. And, that's such a confusing thought, such a confusing state.

    My mom has been stoic. She's mad at my brother for leaving. But, she's stoic. I don't know what to do with her or for her. He was closer with my two sisters, and I don't know what to do with them either. My dad is a little easier because he will talk about it. I don't know. I guess no one should have to prepare for this. But, I know there won't come a day when we are just over this. I'm not going to look for that day. I may have looked for that day had I not started reading your blog.

    So, I wanted to share that with you. I think your blog helped me. I didn't want its help, I just wanted you to feel better. But, it's helped me. One of the women at my brother's service lost a daughter about 10 years ago. She said something to me, I don't remember what, and I said, "oh, you went through this." and then I think I said, "it gets easier?" She said, "No, you just learn to live with it better." I guess I think that's true.

  5. I know what you mean, Amy. I somehow can't get over the fact that being without Kate & Peter will be the way it is for the rest of my life (and yours), like somehow my brain has a snag thinking that this nightmare has an endpoint. Pictures and videos help, but only so much. I hope you find strength and comfort in all the people around you that have very real memories of Kate & Peter, and can reassure you that they are very real.

  6. Here's the thing.
    It's going to seem incredibly trite to read this, but it's also incredibly true. Every emotion that crosses your mind and frustrates your heart as you grieve is the right emotion. It just is. There's no wrong way to do it. There's also no rational way to do it.
    I remember when my grandmother died when I was 17. I had this thought "If I live a long life, it could be upwards of 60 years before I get to see her again." It was a crushing thought, but it's a real feeling. I remember when my best friend died and six months had gone by, my anger at his death was renewed because I kept thinking, 'There's no way he'd ever go this long without talking to me. This is crazy."
    I know that you believe your children are nearby and still participating in your life, and I'm not sure if anyone has ever phrased it for you like this, but here goes. After my best friend's death, I went to a grief counselor and the one thing I still think about every single day from those sessions, is that your relationship with a person who has died doesn't end, it just changes. I can't technically listen to Bill ramble on about the choices I make any more, but when something big comes up, I try to hear his voice. When something big is going on for me, I still have those conversations with him. His side is directed by my knowledge about who he was, in the same way that knowing your children as well as you do you'll 'hear' their sides of the conversations.
    Talk to them. Listen to them. Let them be as active in your life today as they were during their physical lives. It's a small comfort if it's any comfort at all, I know, because you can't touch them, or hold them. Maybe there is nothing any of us can say to help, because you know what? It's not f#$king fair to you. It wasn't fair to them that they had to leave so soon and it's not fair to you to live your life without them. It's okay to be pissed off at the un-fairness of it all because it's really, really un-f$%king-fair.

  7. Amy,

    Like you said, this blog is about your journey. Who gives a shit if it seems a little redundant at times? I will continue reading as long as you continue writing because well, I'm a Mom I guess. A Mom who can't imagine ever living through what you're living through and that makes me care about you and how you're doing. In many ways, those of us who didn't know Kate and Peter have gotten to know a lot about them through your words. At least in part, this blog is kind of like an online scrapbook filled with the memories of your beautiful children. The Treehouse, when it is built, (and it will be built), will certainly serve as a fitting tribute to Kate and Peter. People who have never heard your story or theirs will come to know about two beautiful children who loved to play. But this blog, in my opinion, is an amazing tribute from a Mom to her kids. Your sweet memories of them, your whirlwind of emotions, and your experiences since their tragic death are all documented on these pages so that NONE of us will ever forget that two beautiful amazing children walked this Earth, if only for a short time. So keep writing, and we'll keep reading.

  8. I like the idea of your Buddhist approach. I think that is the most healthy, organic way to approach it... Just let the waves of sadness, anger, rag and sorrow wash over you.

    You are such a strong woman, and I admire you so deeply. I am so happy that you will be getting married in just a couple weeks. You will surely be a stunning bride, and your children will be watching over you with love...

  9. Eh, don't worry about the same old shit. This is really your record, for you. We are here to just read along and provide a little support if needed.

    I think it's odd that our culture teaches us that we "get over" the deaths of loved one and "get on with our lives." Right now, you are "getting on" just fine, with your culinary adventures and your marriage plans and the treehouse--along with all the other things people do just to keep the house going. But none of that has anything to do with how much we miss our loved ones when they die, and in your case, how much you will always want your kids back. When would or should that ever stop? From every perspective that a parent could have (and not some philosopher dealing in abstractions) they left this world too soon. So of course you want them back. Today and tomorrow. And you honor there memory by just acknowledging that truth.

  10. Accepting the emotios for what the are is rolling with the punches.
    You are healing!

    Continued prayers from me

  11. Amy - this entry and all the comments actually had me in tears. In a very connected way. There is tons of value in sharing the same shit - bc that is truly what it's like to be going through what you are. I imagine hearing it over and over again will be healing to others who are going through it, and feel some sort of shame or pressure to "move on." You have done a great job at not "getting over it" and changing the relationship instead. Not what you would prefer in the relationship, but not letting it go, or forgetting, or anything. I'm glad you've done this, and that you can inspire so many others!

    love you,

  12. Keep writing. New or old words, just keep writing. And, congrats on your marriage!