In memory of my son, because every life leaves something beautiful behind...
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
I've been hit hard by grief again these past few weeks and I'm not quite sure whether it's been all the recent news of births and pregnancies, new hope and new beginnings. In my saddest moments as of late the "raison d'etre" of my grief has shifted and taken on a new focus, one that should have been apparent to me all along but has suddenly become quite clear. My beautiful daughter is grieving. Still. Not just for her brother or her "Gramma Beverley" who recently passed away, but for her parents and for being "abandoned" by us when Calvin died. This has become very clear lately in my darlings behaviour, her need for mellowdramatic expression, her "emergencies" and attention seeking, and her in endless need to be reassured of our love for her. The dawning realization that I have failed her as a mother has broken my heart into pieces his past week and has resurfaced some issues and resentments over the way Shane and I were isolated after Calvin's funeral. I'm angry. I'm angry at myself for not being better equiped to deal with my grief AND not just my newborn's needs but my three year old's as well. I'm angry at family who instead of helping maintain a sense of normal for Lorelei when Shane and I were falling apart, turned their backs telling us we needed our "privacy". My girl has a wounded soul and it's taken me this long to realize it. She's preoccupied with a fear of death, terrified that any minor wound or illness may become fatal. She's resentful of the sister who took so much of what little I had left to give when Calvin died. She's prone to fits of histrionics and frequently reverts back to lap sitting and baby talking. In truth her behaviour is so aggravating some days that I was terrified to send her to kindergarten this year, terrified the teacher and other students would reject her. I'm so protective of her that I feel compelled to share what we've been through as a family while inside I'm silently pleading, "Please, please, be kind to her, remember what she's lost". My heart breaks for her....my poor girl. Looking back now, I wish I had called up our friends and family and asked them to take Lorelei for some fun, to show her that although our life was continuing in a different way, that there was still going to be someone she could rely on when mom and dad weren't at our best. I wish they had called and offered to give her some extra attention and love while we were in mourning. I don't know why they didn't. I wish for her sake they had....And now I'm angry and hurt and feeling guilty for what she endured and is STILL enduring because of how our family grief was handled. I wonder at times in my exasperation with her behaviour if she will ever be okay and I wonder if it's right to expect this of her when I'm not sure I will ever be okay myself. And I feel stupid for taking this long to realize just how much my daughter is hurting.
I have decided to write about my feelings following the death of my only son in November 2008. I'm learning that grief is a process with good days and bad, a lonely road with new beginnings and unavoidable endings. It is my hope that through writing I can come to peace with what has happened to us and our beautiful boy.