The past eleven years have been nothing short of difficult.
A single death changes you in so many ways.
And I experienced five deaths all at once.
I dont think anyone really gets that.
What I have been thru.
And honestly, it has become so clear that no body really cares to.
Nobody really wants to.
Another death.
When I got the call, I honestly felt nothing.
I have really become a bit numb to death.
I mean, after your whole family dies and then more than half of your kids are diagnosed with a slow, sad death sentence, the numbness just kinda takes hold.
It fuses to your insides.
It becomes part of you.
You become numb.
You start this daily battle with yourself.
Stay or Go.
Whats the point?
And after experiencing a funeral service in the same funeral home that provided my parents and siblings for the first time since the accident, that numbness kind of faded.
And I felt this pain that honestly was so excruciating it could have taken my last breath.
The pain of unfix-able heartache.
The memories of an event I have worked so hard to forget, came rushing back.
Only this time, it was worse.
Because as I looked around, I was reminded of my three babies, who are alone in this life with me and I was reminded of the guilt I have becuase of that.
I was reminded of Duchenne.
And I was reminded by just how alone I was in all of it.
And how lucky they all were...to have each other...again.
How lucky they all were to not be affected by Duchenne.
How lucky they all were to have a 'normal' life.
I would give anything to be part of them.
Part of the stories, the laughter, the love.
Part of all their "normal".
I guess, its to be expected. The isolation and loneliness after your whole family dies and your kids are dying in front of you.
How does one stay 'normal' after so much grief?
Eleven years ago, two years ago, this past week...
I was alone with all my heartbreak.
I was alone with all my grief.
I was alone to figure it all out.
And boy, ALONE is such a scary place to be.
Stay or Go.
Whats the point?
I would give anything to go.
And I am not a quitter, but boy, the two words "I QUIT" sure sound pretty good right now.
Grief.
Its so ugly.
Its confuses your truths and your lies.
It changes you.
I have given so many people, so many chances, so much forgiveness.
And after these past two weeks, I cant help but ask myself why?
Why do I bother.
It shouldnt have to be so hard to be part of a family.
It shouldnt have to be so hard to be loved by people.
It shouldnt have to be so hard for people to just be here for me and with me.
It just shouldnt be so hard for people to not be so damn selfish.
Nothing should be THIS hard.
So, last night I QUIT.
I begged God, sobbing, tears, screaming, yelling, to take us. Just let us go. Supernaturally. Magically. Hocus Pocus. Whatever. Just get us the hell out of here.
I mean, HE IS GOD and all...
Why is He not doing what I ask?
Perhaps He is doing something else?
During one of the million times I was up, alone, with a kid last night, for some reason as I sat on the step stool in the bathroom while my sweet nine year old had blood pouring from his nose, I was prompted to take a book that has sat on a shelf above the toilet for the past 10 years, The Race, is its title.
Someone sent me this book after my family died, and literally I never thought to actually read it, until this morning at 3:02 am.
Its a simple story, a race of boys running to a finish line, one boy in the lead, but then falls, not once but three separate times, each time, wanting to quit, but getting back up anyways. Never to win the race, but never to quit.
One of the last pages read,
"And to his dad he sadly said, "I didnt do too well."
"To me, you won, " his father said.
"You rose each time you fell."
Honestly, I am certain, the prompt to read this was from my Heavenly Father.
He is the dad in this story, telling me I dont get to 'quit'.
And as mad at I am that He isnt parting the sea for me to walk thru, I cant help but trust Him.
Today, I rose, again.
Sick kids, lots of grief, and no physical help.
But I ROSE.
And I hope if you are struggling to rise, you will go to the library and read this short little story, because I promise Heaven will be worth waiting for.
*Bell Ring.
Comments