Other People's Stories

When I first began this blog, I knew I would share some personal moments and feelings regarding the loss of our daughter, Allison. I didn't know how it would evolve, and I still don't know what inspires me to write when I do. I can be in the middle of working on a project, doing laundry, dusting, and I know I must find that release, and I find my way to the computer and my fingers fly. It's as if this is MY type of therapy, MY way of getting through the moment, and it really doesn't matter who reads it, I don't feel I am writing for an audience. I am writing for me. I also thought, back when I started, that I would be sharing stories of others, not just my own journey, but I haven't done that as planned. Now and then, yes, and I certainly carry those in my heart with me when I sit down to type. But I can't tell their story, it's theirs to tell, should they desire. I can say that all of them influence me in some profound way. There is not a story that doesn't cause my empathetic spirit to be sad or to walk with them, sometimes for a lot longer than the day of just hearing about it. It's as if our hearts can hold more and more and these tiny snippets just grow and grow...so in my heart, there are so many, there is Vanessa and her family left to live without her, there is Chrissy's Frank and their children and all the sisters and brothers of that dear family, there is Lilly's brother Cowen who lost his twin sister at birth, who spent nine months with her in the womb but never to know her in this life, and of course, her parents, who celebrated one twin's birthday without the other, there is Kim, who will find her way as she approaches the first anniversary of her daughter's passing, there is Diana, who this very week honors her son's life, gone two short years from her grasp, there's Amanda who has just had her first baby and how she wishes her dad were here to see him, after passing on from his own intense battle several years ago, there's Faith's parents who honor her life everyday in their own sweet way, and there's more...so much more...there is Jeanine who was featured on the news show about raising awareness for childhood cancers in memory of her son, CJ, who shared her journal with the world, who brought tears streaming down my face because I thought she was reading a page from my own journal. I swear, they were the same words, so I discovered, yes, someone else does know, does feel, does keep on living to honor the deceased child while staying strong for the one on earth.

And while there are way too many more to mention, there is one more. There is a young lady who is a client of my daughter, Jennifer. This young lady has lost her parents, several years back, to brain and other cancers, then in the past few years, her only sibling, her brother. Now, as life would have it, her brother's wife has passed from brain cancer, leaving three or four young children. There is not another existing family member left to help, so this young 27 year old woman has packed up her life and moved to Colorado to raise the children, perhaps bring them back to St. Louis, but unsure and uncertain of what the future holds.

It maks us wonder, wonder and ask questions that have no answers. This is life. This is our temporary place, this is our stopover and seldom do we think we could face this much loss. We think we may grow older with our children, become grandparents, perhaps, or be here to watch them grow, and we never expect that we will be here, and they will not. This doesn't happen to us, it happens to others. But, oh yes, it does, and this is life. Life is loss, and yet, it is joy, laughter and celebrations. But now, for me, plans are made more tentatively, more cautiously, plans are contingent on many factors. When plans were made BEFORE I never had a thought that the event or activity or ceremony would not take place for my world had not been quite rocked in the same way. If I am truthful, now, when plans are made, I pray that God will bless me to be here and that they can come to fruition. I do not take for granted that I will have another trip to see my sister, or that I will be here to attend the weddings that we get invited to, or that we can plan a 30th birthday for Jennifer in a couple of years, perhaps a visit to New York or another place we would like to go and spend time together. I take nothing for granted, not this day, not this house, not my retirement check, not my life, or the life of those I hold dear. The silence and my aching heart, the shadow of grief, the cloak that I never shed, tells me to appreciate where I am, what I have, and with God's grace, I will have what is needed. All things are temporal and as I remind myself every day, it can be gone as easily as it was granted.

It didn't take my daughter's death to know all this, but it did take her leaving us for me to start being me and knowing myself. This is my journey now, I have raised her, and Jennifer and now it is my turn. And it's scary. I don't know myself some days. I don't want to do this. I don't want to get up or keep the lunch date or join in social activities. But I overcome my fears, I draw strength from God and the child of mine He holds tightly and I go on. I am powered by something stronger than anything I could find on my own, God's love and faith and the determination of one sweet soul who left long before she should have.

The stories will never stop, each day we will hear those that impact us and sadden us and make us wonder, why, how, what is fair...but we will learn from them and if we do not, shame on us. That is what they are there for. We get to try again today, make it our best, live for ourselves, and those we love, and yes, live like we are dying. Because one day it WILL be our turn and when we look in the eyes of those waiting we want to feel that rapture, that love, that pride. We want to know we lived and made a difference.