Stories

We all have stories.  Things we're going through.  Sometimes the only thing that helps us go through something hard is to help someone else through their troubles.   We can use our experiences to maybe lift someone else or share in their sorrow.  It's the only thing that makes sense of a tragedy we suffer through.

When I think of my life story there have been more good things that have happened to me than bad.  I don't think there is a "scale" of bad but the loss of a child is right up there with anything horrible you'd ever go through in your life.  I find myself looking at women with their daughters and my eyes fill with tears.  I want to tell that mother to cherish every moment with her daughter.  Never take one argument for granted or feel like she can't wait until her daughter moves out and gets her own life going so it's easier to be together.  I had those thoughts too.  When it wasn't easy.  When Taryn would test me to my limits and beyond.  Those of you who knew her fiery little spirit know exactly what I mean.  I had that happen after I lost my dad too.  I'd see old men about his age and tear up. 

I haven't written in here in a while.  I get these bursts of thought that need to go somewhere and so I just start writing.  Today I've been thinking about the beginning through the end.  My story.  All of it.  How I traveled the world with my parents in the Army and how I went to college and worked.  Met my husband and had three adorable children.  Sometimes you can look through your life like a movie.  Reflection will happen when you look through pictures or videos of the past.  Looking to the future is harder after loss.  Everything seems more fragile.  You are so aware of the fact that nothing is guaranteed.  Every holiday is more special, every family dinner becomes so precious.  Spending time together is sweeter and valued more.  Virginia Woolf said it in her writings.  Someone always had to die in her books, it helped others value life more.  Oddly enough she committed suicide because of a mental condition she had.  Nowadays they think it might have been bipolar disorder.  she had no hope for the future.

I don't have no hope for the future.  It's exactly the opposite really.  The future is the only hope.  I look at my grandsons and their sweet faces and then my wrinkling hands, and wonder how that happened so fast.  My skin is turning into tissue paper and it fascinates me.  I don't mind growing old.  It's a privilege.  My daughter will never grow old.  I won't get to see her stress over wrinkles or hold her hands and watch her cope with aging.  I won't get to see the wisdom in her eyes as she survives teenage children or life's uncertainties.  Those are some of the things I was looking forward to.

We adjust.  We refocus.  Edit.  This is what there is now.  We can either accept it or be constantly reaching back for what we can't have.  Still the future holds so much promise.  Those faces of my grandsons are so important to my mental health.  Their smiles and laughter give me so much joy it's hard to describe.  A hug from Killian with his head on my shoulder fills my eyes with tears.  It renews my soul.  Watching Dean hold up his hands when he can't find something is so funny it fills me with giggles.  Jaxx lights up and smiles whenever I tickle him and he giggles all the time now.  He's so happy and I find myself saying to Taryn, "Honey you'd love this, all of it.  Playing with your brother's boys would fill you with pride and so much happiness."

It does that for me.