Every day...

I wish this was some sort of mistake.
I can't believe it.
I miss them from the depths of my being.
I am grateful I spent the time I did with them and know that I am the luckiest mom in the world.
I try to find a way to undo this.
Some small part of me truly believes I can figure out a way to bring them back.
The rest of me knows I can't.
I spend a little time pretending they're just at school or asleep in their beds, because for a few seconds it feels good.
I'm heartbroken all over again when I realize they're not at school or asleep in their beds.
I want to know why them...why me?
I think there must be a reason.
I don't want to do it anymore, but know I have to.
I somehow get out of bed.
I rely on my friends.
I feel in my gut that they're ok and here somewhere.
I have to remember to breathe.
I feel guilty for all the things I did wrong...all the times I was impatient, overcritical, too controlling or wrapped up in my own little world.
I feel guilty for letting them get in that car that day, when Peter wouldn't stop crying. I should have known something was wrong.
I wish I had said goodbye and hugged and kissed them one more time because now I can't.
I think that if I could have somehow known, I would've done everything differently.
I wonder if maybe I did something to cause this or if I'm being punished.
I know I would give absolutely anything to have them back.
I cry.

I over schedule myself, knowing that the faster time goes, the sooner I will be with them.
I try to figure out what my purpose is now.
I wonder if I'll ever have more kids.
I cook because it's the one thing that truly engages me mentally and physically.
I try to be ok.
I am extremely grateful for all the people who support me and pray for me.
I wonder what Kate and Peter would want me to do and if they're watching.
I want to honor their lives and make them proud.

Why Callapitter?

"Callapitter" is the word my son, Peter, always used instead of caterpillar. I love his pronunciation and, quite honestly, think it rolls off the tongue far more easily than the correct pronunciation. I hoped he would always pronounce caterpillar that way...as he grew up, went to college, had kids of his own...etc, etc. Unfortunately that won't happen. He and his sister, Kate - my beautiful, amazing, intelligent, incredible children - died in a car accident on April 6, 2009. There are no words to describe the extent of my grief or the degree to which I miss them.

At this point I feel like a callapitter. From where I sit it absolutely feels like the world is over. How does a divorced stay-at-home-mom go on without her children? I have no fucking clue. This blog will be my story as I attempt to find some purpose and reason for living after my devastating loss. It may not be something anyone else wants to read, which is fine. Maybe it will help me. Maybe it won't. Maybe it will give me an outlet for the crazy spectrum of emotions I experience on an hourly basis. Maybe people will read it. Maybe their comments will help me and something I write will be meaningful to them. Maybe I'll find other parents in my situation who understand. I have no idea. I just hope that somehow I will become like a callapitter and will turn into a butterfly (not literally. don't worry I'm not smoking crack...yet). Is there a chance that something beautiful could grow out of a situation that seems so horrible? I guess if I didn't believe it was possible, I would have given up already. We'll see.


A few notes in case anyone does read this blog:

1. I am not a writer. I have never claimed to be a writer and I realize that what I write may not be eloquent or even grammatically correct. Please don't judge me on the quality of my writing.
2. I have a potty mouth. If you don't like reading profanities, please do not read any further. I do not plan to censor any of my feelings as I write so prepare yourself to read every bad word you've ever heard, as well as some I just may make up.
3. This blog most likely will not be a warm and fuzzy, make-you-feel-good kinda thing. It may be dark and scary. It may be sarcastic and mean. It may just be fucked up, like I am right now. It may eventually grow into something more positive...but I'm not making any promises.