Sunday, June 30, 2013

A Good Mother Counts Body Hair

Since many of my friends are around my age, many of their children are the same age as mine. Many of them are hitting puberty. The raging funk that follows behind them in a green toxic cloud. The fun of counting underarm hairs. Yes, I count his hairs for him. He is very proud of them. Getting to watch Ty sleep EVERY time he gets in the car. (Jerry keeps reassuring me that it is normal. And, that he did the same thing.)
But, it is getting really hard to read some of the posts. And, it leaves me feeling selfish and guilty. Now, don’t get me wrong. I love to hear about the kids. And, I have a child going through it. But, when the talk to turn to the subjects of clothes and hair, broken flat irons leading to thermal nuclear meltdowns, back talking, siblings fighting and slinging things at each other’s heads, kids grumbling about their cars it takes everything I have to not break down and cry. The pictures of Sarah's friends getting their driver's license were the hardest thing for me to see. She would have turned sixteen on 12-12-12. And, everyone kept making a big deal about the date. I was receptionist at a job I hated. People kept walking by my desk laughing about it over and over. Someone Finally noticed that I Looked like I had been ran over a few dozen times by a Sherman tank. I was completely exhausted in every way that you can be exhausted, I had sobbed on and off all day. Visine would have been useless. I just wanted to sleep. I should have, in hind sight, asked off for the day. But, I was new at the job and did not feel like I could. 

Then comes the guilt. I really want to hear about every one's kids and how they are doing. I am going through the whole teenage thing with Ty. So, I don't want to feel alone. So, I feel horrid for complaining to myself. Even though no one hears me. I still feel like I am hurting people. There is a guilt in losing a child that people do not expect. I felt guilty for the fact that my parents were not just mourning the loss of a grandchild. They were worried about me. My husband had only had a daughter a couple of years. Just long enough to really get to know her. Then, had her ripped away. And, then had to take care of me on top of it. Many of my friends had children that were friends of Sarah. And, she was one of those kids that did not just get close to the kids. She was close to the parents, too. So, their families were grieving the lost of her friend, their child's friends and were still worried about me. Oh, and there was Jerry being the check in person. He was bombarded by people checking on my without my knowledge. I am not complaining about it. Neither did he. He had his plate full. But, he never once turned down another helping. And, the diabetic parents that knew of Sarah's death. How on earth was I to live with the guilt of them now being scared to let their child sleep at night. 

I am accepting that it's OK to be frustrated. Anger is an emotion that I have not gone through much with the loss of my child. Surprisingly. So, maybe this is how my anger is manifesting. I am just glad that it is not at anyone. Well, except for days like to today. But, that is a blog for another time.

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