Dear Madie,
The past few weeks have seemed to have many new obstacles and layers that hit unexpectedly. The journey is by far the most difficult I have ever faced. I guess I am grateful for other experiences I have had to prepare me, but even with them I often wonder how it is my life needs these experiences.. I often wonder what I am supposed to learn from such a personal sacrifice. I don't know why so often in my life I have felt left behind, but this is the hardest time ever. To lose my mother and you, my daughter so close together makes me wonder how I am to continue living without you or my mother, being both a mother and a daughter....
I do not question where you are, or how great it is......
For those of us left behind, I know that we are spirits here having a physical experience, and we are living in a fallen state; mortal. I am grateful to have this knowledge, but I still am in a fallen state, trying to make sense of this physical experience.
I know that prayer, music and nature are powerful and often helpful.
I miss everything about your physical presence, your smile and laugh,
your gentle voice that often couldn't be heard,
but then at other times was super animated.
I remember how much you hated getting out of bed,our nightly long walks, your desire to become independent, how you prayed for the inspiration to know the needs of others..
Madie, this is so complicated....every death or life challenge is individualized. I know that it hurts beyond words, to have buried you, my child, to know I won't ever see you again while I am alive. But I don't know what it is like to bury the love of my life, or a sister, or the challenges of going through a divorce...what it feels like to experience so many other challenges... I have learned that our lives are so complex and individualized that no one that is mortal can understand what we are experiencing. Often I don’t even know what I need and it changes day to day. One of the hardest things for me is to organize anything, give directions, or make decisions.
Grief feels like being in quicksand with an air vent to breath. The experience is new, but vision is impossible, yet I continue to move, not knowing where the escape is. It is dirty, and yet hard to really experience what others around me are going through, again because vision is blocked, the experience consuming. It is scary, personal, complicated, and changes hour by hour. It is a multiplication factor. At times, like when I write, I can be consumed in my own grief, but just moments later I may need to tuck it away to focus on another issue with someone in our family who might be struggling, or just needs life to feel normal, happy, or maybe has an issue with work, school, health, or friends. I somehow find a way to be able to clear my vision for awhile, to function well, only later to have the muck return.
I understand that my brain is powerful and so is Heavenly Father, that I really do get to somehow chart my course through this path. I haven't ever faced something that makes me want to give up like this has, and yet I continue to press forward... Sometimes I win, often I lose, but most days I just get out of bed and wish I felt passion for something. Remember how I talked to you during our walks your senior year about losing passion for everything since my mother died...that was just training ground for this experience..
It is the loneliest of journeys. It's like I'm trying to figure out who I am because I have limited ability to relate to the person I was previously to your accident.
Part of the trick is that each person who is mourning your death, is also struggling to find their way through the labyrinth.
I love to talk about you, remember all the intricacies of how you were a part of my daily life, but you know I can be a broken record when I am struggling with something, and often I now find myself just doing it inside my head, trying to honor everyone else's needs to work through this their way...honoring their journey, their need for normalcy, realizing I am the barometer most often in our home, and how I am doing seems to set the stage for the overall tone…
Sometimes we are able to step off of the stage, and escape to something that is
really fun, nice, enjoyable...
this gives me hope for the future, but it is hard to later find ourselves back in the reality of the climb out of the quicksand. I look forward to the day that I can see clearly through the glass that is darkly clouded now. when I can see the "BIG PICTURE" Until then I pray for constant angels to go before me and around me, as well as for each member of our family,
hoping that one of them is you my sweet Madeline Rose…
The past few weeks have seemed to have many new obstacles and layers that hit unexpectedly. The journey is by far the most difficult I have ever faced. I guess I am grateful for other experiences I have had to prepare me, but even with them I often wonder how it is my life needs these experiences.. I often wonder what I am supposed to learn from such a personal sacrifice. I don't know why so often in my life I have felt left behind, but this is the hardest time ever. To lose my mother and you, my daughter so close together makes me wonder how I am to continue living without you or my mother, being both a mother and a daughter....
I do not question where you are, or how great it is......
For those of us left behind, I know that we are spirits here having a physical experience, and we are living in a fallen state; mortal. I am grateful to have this knowledge, but I still am in a fallen state, trying to make sense of this physical experience.
I know that prayer, music and nature are powerful and often helpful.
your gentle voice that often couldn't be heard,
but then at other times was super animated.
I remember how much you hated getting out of bed,our nightly long walks, your desire to become independent, how you prayed for the inspiration to know the needs of others..
Madie, this is so complicated....every death or life challenge is individualized. I know that it hurts beyond words, to have buried you, my child, to know I won't ever see you again while I am alive. But I don't know what it is like to bury the love of my life, or a sister, or the challenges of going through a divorce...what it feels like to experience so many other challenges... I have learned that our lives are so complex and individualized that no one that is mortal can understand what we are experiencing. Often I don’t even know what I need and it changes day to day. One of the hardest things for me is to organize anything, give directions, or make decisions.
Grief feels like being in quicksand with an air vent to breath. The experience is new, but vision is impossible, yet I continue to move, not knowing where the escape is. It is dirty, and yet hard to really experience what others around me are going through, again because vision is blocked, the experience consuming. It is scary, personal, complicated, and changes hour by hour. It is a multiplication factor. At times, like when I write, I can be consumed in my own grief, but just moments later I may need to tuck it away to focus on another issue with someone in our family who might be struggling, or just needs life to feel normal, happy, or maybe has an issue with work, school, health, or friends. I somehow find a way to be able to clear my vision for awhile, to function well, only later to have the muck return.
I understand that my brain is powerful and so is Heavenly Father, that I really do get to somehow chart my course through this path. I haven't ever faced something that makes me want to give up like this has, and yet I continue to press forward... Sometimes I win, often I lose, but most days I just get out of bed and wish I felt passion for something. Remember how I talked to you during our walks your senior year about losing passion for everything since my mother died...that was just training ground for this experience..
It is the loneliest of journeys. It's like I'm trying to figure out who I am because I have limited ability to relate to the person I was previously to your accident.
Part of the trick is that each person who is mourning your death, is also struggling to find their way through the labyrinth.
I love to talk about you, remember all the intricacies of how you were a part of my daily life, but you know I can be a broken record when I am struggling with something, and often I now find myself just doing it inside my head, trying to honor everyone else's needs to work through this their way...honoring their journey, their need for normalcy, realizing I am the barometer most often in our home, and how I am doing seems to set the stage for the overall tone…
this gives me hope for the future, but it is hard to later find ourselves back in the reality of the climb out of the quicksand. I look forward to the day that I can see clearly through the glass that is darkly clouded now. when I can see the "BIG PICTURE" Until then I pray for constant angels to go before me and around me, as well as for each member of our family,
hoping that one of them is you my sweet Madeline Rose…
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