Day Three of March Madness

My March Madness 2019

Day Three

As I begin this recollection of Day Three, I am two thirds of the way through Day Four! It was just one of those days. I woke up fairly early feeing agitated. I couldn’t really pinpoint why. I had my now typical lazy sort of morning which, with my new dietary plans consists of a breakfast that contains coffee with almond milk, a banana, and a small omelet with Mitchells Salsa. I also drink a 16oz water bottle. Lunch is typically a big salad and dinner some meat and veggies. I chew on celery and cucumbers frequently to stave off hunger and I drink one protein shake at some hungry point. I also try to drink lots of water, either fresh or seltzer. I realize this is not a very interesting beginning to my story, but it truly illustrates the kind of day I had.

Recovering from brain surgery, missing Molly, caring for Kenny and trying to assure Gracie that life really is okay can be tricky. Keeping friends, knowing with whom you can safely share your feelings, pasting a smile on your face and managing all of the normal daily tasks is a juggling act. I have always led a busy and somewhat chaotic life. It is just the kind of person I have always been. Flying from one thing to the next, picking up the five piles of my stuff off the kitchen floor, each one representing a day of the week, moving the laundry along, watching Disney Shows with the girl(s) and finally talking about it all at the end of the day with Kenny. Life is not like that now. We often are not sure what to do. So, when what I really wanted to do yesterday was eat an ice cream cone or have a tall glass of vodka, I went to the YMCA with Kenny and rode that recumbent bike I have come to “love” so much. I did some errands. I checked a few things off my “to do before radiation day” list and went to bed in a sad state of mind.

Aside from missing Molly one of the hardest things to deal with is society’s expectation of me as the mother with a dead child. I am a mentor in a couple of online grief groups. I am approached by the site leaders because I am “so good at showing true understanding and acceptance while remaining so positive”. If you were to ask many of my friends or “real life” acquaintances about my typical mood I am quite sure I am described as quiet, sad, nothing like “the old Barb”. Like much in my life now, both descriptions are spot on.

I spend a good amount of my time in real life defending my right to be sad. I am not “stuck” or “not moving on”. No one moves ON from a loved one. I am moving THROUGH my life without Molly here. Other than a young child losing a parent, or a child losing a sibling I do not feel that any death comes close to a parent losing a child. This is my life now and coping with and accepting Molly’s death in my own way on my own terms will ultimately show me more times in my days where I am feeling okay.

A woman in a group once asked how long it took us to laugh again. I was a bit struck by this because we all laughed at times throughout the week Molly was on life support. It was the worst week of my life up to that point but there was also joy and love and good energy. Grief is its own entity. I am sad all of the time, but I am also happy and joyful as well. I believe I will be this way for my earthly life. I have met many mothers who have lost a child. I read with keen interest all I could find about Barbara Bush and how she lived her life without her sweet young Robin. I truly don’t know how to be other than how I am but I find great comfort in others who actually understand me as well as in seeing others realize I actually understand them.

So Sunday was not a great day. We will all have those from time to time. I was at the doctor’s shortly after Molly was born and I was complaining that I couldn’t seem to lose weight fast enough. She looked at me and replied, it took you nine months to grow her, give yourself at least that long to lose the weight. I allow myself this sentiment on my tough days. You had her for 13 years one month and seven days on the outside and nine months on the inside. I do not feel that it will take me that long to have a better handle on all of this, but we are just shy of three years out from Death Week. We are still learning.

I went to bed knowing that I would wake up on Monday in a better place. I seem to be that way. I have such tremendous support and a true drive to increase the times I am truly feeling happy. But like weight loss and running a faster time in the mile, along with the training and nutrition, there is that entity I call “Jell-O Time” …. Where, like actual Jell-O, you just have to sit still and let it happen. Here Here!! To Jell-O Time!!