First time for everything

Here goes nothing....

Welcome to the renderings of my life as it exists today. I have been keeping a journal of my thoughts, feelings, insights, since my daughter Mary was killed by a drunk driver on March 31, 2009. They are mostly ramblings of what goes through my mind in the wee hours of the morning, meandering around through pain and tears to questions and memories and poems.

I will start with last nights journal and repost some from past days maybe. Here are some of the characters: Julie, Mary, and Danny (my children) - Kerry (my husband) - Tony (Mary's finance). I will introduce more as time goes by.
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Tony came home today. Not his home. His home is no more. Our home, his parents home. Both are his but they are from the past. He and Mary had their home. Now it’s just a house, vacant, cold, silent. He’s searching for a way to find a new home. Not searching for a new home, searching for a path to get somewhere he can make sense of his life. I can see it in his eyes. Coming to our house is probably very uncomfortable for him and brings up way too many memories. Memories are the hardest to absorb right now. Because they mean “the past”. I want “plans” – they mean the future. But I can’t have them. When I remember, I cry, but I can not, will not let myself forget. It’s a “catch 22” as they say.

So…..on to the memories.

As you grow up you take part in traditions within your family. When my kids were little I hoped we would create little traditions for our kids to take with them. One such tradition is NMWYSFTROTDILYJALBMTT. I’m not quite sure how it started but it’s still going strong. We always say “Love you” when leaving the house, hanging up the phone, going to work or school, etc. Then someone would add on “love you more’. Each person would add on something else – “love you more than that”. Till one day Mary said, and I quote, “No matter what you say for the rest of the day, I love you just a little bit more than that”. There was nothing else the next person could say. Then it turned into who could say those words the faster. We still say it. Julie’s kids say it too. And they have their own little good night tradition that I can’t understand at all.

If Mary had a headstone, that’s what would have been on it. I’m so glad she’s not laying in one place forever. She’s not a stay in one place person.

As I “remember” Mary I wonder how many things I am remembering wrong. Does it matter? I used to buy her clothes sometimes from the thrift stores I go to. Something cute, bright, Mary-like. I finally had to quit because our tastes were NOT the same. She would say, “Oh, that’s beautiful. It’s so you.” And I’d say, “but I like it for you”. And she’d say, “oh, no, not me” with a smile on her face.

All these things I am remembering now I used to remember with her while we were laughing about them or crying about them. I don’t like remembering them alone. Each of us has a different perspective on what we remember and when comparing notes we always come up with “Oh, yeah!”, “That’s right”, “It did (or didn’t) happen that way”. Now one point of view is quite blatantly missing. It’s like a missing slice from a cake or a bite out of a cookie. It tasted good but you can never put it back.

Remembering is painful, forgetting is impossible, and there is no happy medium. One day at a time, girl, one day at a time.

Today….

I cannot run away, cannot run away, cannot run away from you.

You’re always in my path, always in my view, always in my mind, forever.

No matter how hard I try to ease the pain

Nothing helps, not sunshine or rain.

Because….

I see you standing there, see you standing there, see you standing there in the shadows.

You’re playing on my thoughts, playing on my soul, playing on my heart strings.

No matter how hard I try to ease the pain

Everything I do is always in vain.

When….

I try to look away, try to look away, try to look away from you.

You’re reaching for the sky, reaching for the wind, reaching out to touch me.

No matter how hard I try to ease the pain

My life and love for you constantly remain.

Then…

I look at all the things, look at all the things, look at all the things around me

You’re part of every crowd, part of every face, part of every sight I see.

No matter how hard I try to ease the pain

My efforts are seemingly profane.

Now….

I am following the path, following the path, following the path that I must take.

Will I reach the end? will I start again? will this loneliness abate, years from now?

I must accept the pain I feel to go forward.

And one day you will be my soul restored.