Today our third Christmas without you has been an up and down seesaw of emotions. Was glad for those that were here and missing our angel in heaven and the youngest lost in her mind.
For me the agony in my heart, knowing the eldest can never be with me again and the piercing pain within my soul knowing the youngest chooses not to be with me or any family member not even a phone call causes my heart to break over and over. Does one outweigh the other I don’t know, would I move forward or ‘on’ as people keep telling me to in, my grieving for Klysta if Andrea Marie would come back into my life, that one I don’t know either. I do know my heart is so heavy and I keep praying yet I continue to grieve for the loss of my oldest and my youngest. I am blessed to have Dusti Jean and the bit of life she shares with me and my wonderful grandson Eric he is such a sweet loving caring child she is doing wonders with him.
I see the gifts we bought for Devlin, Andreas son, our youngest grandson under the tree and in a few days I will put them in the closet in hope that someday they will be given to him along with the birthday cards for both of them.
Holidays are very hard when we have loved and lost or are losing loved ones due to incurable disease or infirmity, it is a mystery to me why, and that is the million dollar plus question for every parent, why, why must we suffer so much by losing our children?
I have told my daughter Klysta’s story so many times, to strangers because family knows what happened, and those strangers or supposed friends say” get over it, move on, let go let God, you need to pray,” or the worst is “put her pictures away find somewhere else to place her ashes so that you don’t see ‘that’ everyday.” Needless to say they are not the kind of friends I want.
What I haven’t been able to do with family is sit and cry and grieve and tell of my grief. How I imagine her last days, how she must have been in so much pain from her abuser/killers hands, how does it feel to have your esophagus busted and be bleeding inside? How does the bruises on your body feel or the side of your face and eye being swollen? How does it feel to have someone poison you, how does your body react in those moments before your lungs won’t take in air and your heart just stops? Did she know she was dying? Did she know enough to call out to our Lord, or to call out for me, as I call out to my momma when I am in need and hurting?
There is not one day since the day she died that I have not thought these things, think of her and hurt for her, and yes even beat myself up covered in anger at myself…why oh why didn’t I INSIST on going to get her when she called the Wednesday before she died, why did I not just get in my car and drive the two hundred fifty miles instead of listening to her say” it’s okay momma I will be there Sunday” and she wasn’t, she wasn’t, her life had been taken from her! Because I did not go that Wednesday night…will God ever forgive me, will I ever forgive myself?
The mask I put on each day is getting harder than easier, most days I do not even WANT to get out of bed. But I do because my husband needs me. I do not know what will happen when he goes, I don’t think I have anything else to live for, no one needs me, each member of my family has their own life and making their own way and yes dealing with the loss of their sister, aunt, cousin, niece and mother in their way. It is one of the saddest things I know and see, that this family could not come together to support one another in this the most tragic thing to happen to all of us. But I know this too is my fault.
I wish the holidays and birthdays and anniversaries of death could be wiped off my calendar, and out of my mind. I keep the television on almost 24/7, because I just want to lose myself and let the world go by without me, I don’t want to think. When I begin to think, I cry silently so I don’t disturb the hubs when really I just want to scream as loud and as long as my voice holds out. If I was a drinking person I would crack open a bottle of some kind of whiskey and guzzle it till I lost my breath and passed out so I wouldn’t think. I am so tired of me and my drama, my self pity, most of all being lost.
I am grieving, I will grieve everyday for the rest of my life, I will agonize everyday for the rest of my life if I had just made the drive to pick her up….
A blogging friend who also lost her daughter said it this way… “There is an aching in my soul and a hole in my heart. There is always a part of me that is always aware that “my child is dead.” I will never be complete again. Nothing or no one can fill the place my child had in my life and heart! …Tersia Burger
I was going to apologize for writing this, but I am not ashamed that my mask of grief has been taken off, I am tired tonight and wearing it is heavy. It is a burden that I carry not with pride but with honor, honor that I was blessed with my beautiful Klysta for forty-one years and I am honored that I was her mother for that brief time.
Rip my beloved Klysta LaNell Aug 20, 1969 ~ Feb 19, 2011