As I have perused the internet blogs other people have written I’m finding many by parents who have lost a child. Their children have all been babies or grammar school ages. I have not found any writing about adult children. They are all wondering what would their children have grown up to be, what would they be like as a teenager, as an adult, etc. And here I am able to answer most if not all these questions regarding Mary. Yes, she lived longer than their children but it still wasn’t long enough. It should have been 98 not 28. It doesn’t make it any less painful, less agonizing to loose an adult child. She is still my child, my baby, my sweet little girl. I was 28 when Mary was born. Ironic or piss ant poor?
How many sentences are started with the words “well, at least you had …..”. This is supposed to make me feel better? I haven’t gotten to the reality plane where I can see the positives of this situation. I try to celebrate her life but all I can do is cry for what I’ve lost. I can’t see the other door opening. I can’t see any good that is coming out of this bad. Maybe my point of view is tainted. Maybe if I could have said goodbye. But that would mean she would have had a terminal illness or some such awful thing, which is no more acceptable. Maybe if she would have been 72 and had lived a good long, inspiring, happy life. Of course that would mean I’d be 100 and I’d probably have long gone. But that’s ok – I’m not supposed to out live my children.
It has also been suggested that even if I could change the outcome, if Mary had not died at this moment in her life, she could possibly have had a more painful, lingering, or horrific death than what did happen. I’m not quite sure how to take this statement. What could be more horrific than to have a 7 ton pickup truck land on you and squish you to death by breaking every bone in your body and crushing the life out of you, while you know what’s happening? THAT’S the image I see all the time. I haven’t seen any pictures of the scene but I know, I just know. So, YES, I would change the outcome, in a split second. And why would I even consider the option that this kind of death is better than what could have happened in the future? She would have lived to a ripe old age. I guess people just don’t know what to say so they say something, anything to try to make you feel better. A hug would have sufficed.
I’m so freakin’ tired of my mind playing tricks
I see you in front of me when you don’t exist
I hear your voice when you are no more
I end up on my knees, crying on the floor
The light of day turns dark so fast
I feel your touch but it does not last
I smell your scent when you are out of sight
When will this dark turn into light?
My senses are broken and all confused
I need to borrow a heart that’s unused
One that is hard and not easily broken
One that can absorb the words unspoken
Unused hearts are a dime a dozen
And for that there’s a very good reason
I’ll use one up every single day
Just to keep the freakin’ pain away