Not What I Expected

    Being a bereaved parent is not what I expected, starting with the fact that I didn't expect to be a bereaved parent. Who does that?! I mean, no one EXPECTS to be faced with burying their child. We, as new parents, are so focused on making sure we provide a strong childhood and upbringing to our new child that we refuse to allow those darker thoughts to enter our minds. We don't even want to take up the offer we all get in the mail to sign up our new babies for Gerber's Life Insurance that pays us if our child dies. WHO DOES THAT?! Yes, it would have been smart for us to do that, wish we had.

Our Rainbow, Cheyenne

    Then when we were faced with burying our second child, we found ourselves without that baby life insurance again. Then, when we had our HEALTHY third child, we STIL DID NOT DO IT! This time we knew he was healthy, so we didn't want to risk taunting Death. The point is that as a human race, it is natural for us to be positive and hopeful in our daily lives, more so when parenting our children, so when we find ourselves living what we never expected, we are not prepared.

Our Froggie, Emily.

    It's been nearly 20 years since our oldest, Cheyenne, passed. A few less since we lost Emily. We have been living the cliche "Life goes on" journey. Our son is nearly 11 now, healthy and loved, if not a bit spoiled. Yes, we have good days... even GREAT days. I thank God for those days. They are needed to balance those days that will never go away. Those days that hit without warning, unexpectedly. There are lots of things that happen that we don't expect when our children die. How we react to them will determine how our lives unfold after our children die. Below is a list of a few of those unexpected things, and the reactive choices we are faced with. The trick for a grieving parent is to choose wisely so our lives will have opportunities for greatness again.

    I didn't expect that the grief process after loosing Emily, our second child to bury, would move faster, or be easier. At times I didn't think it did, but it did. Each day we were faced with the returning pain, and we had to choose to reject it or embrace it. By embracing it, we were in (a bit) more control. We used it to recognize the love we still have for our girls. We used it to recognize our own strength and ability to get through it as experienced bereaved parents. Then we could (still can) face each day knowing we are better for having known and loved our children. We are better and stronger than most other people.

   I didn't expect to be faced with the almost celebrity style respect and admiration we often get from others who "can't imagine" what we live with. I don't like it, it makes me very uncomfortable because I'd rather have my girls back. I know they just want to help us see how strong we are, but it's weird.

   I didn't expect to ever feel whole again, but I do... usually. I've learned that what Patrick Swayze said in "Ghost" is true... "The love stays with you". The love is them, still here, just in a different form. So I take it and run with it. I remind myself that I am a better person for having been their mom, and that means I AM WHOLE, despite the fact that my heart is not.

   I didn't expect... get ready... to hear my husband say the loss of his mom is more difficult than burying his two little girls. WHAT???!!!! Yes, it's true. HOW????? ...the pain of loss is built up of the memories and the relationship shared. They had a VERY SPECIAL and very rare mother son bond, built on 57 years of life together. It's hard to explain, harder to understand, but I think I'm getting it.

   Everyone grieves differently, based on the relationship, and how it was left at the time of the death. We can prepare all we want, or ignore all the signs telling us we need to prepare. Either way, death comes to us all. How we choose to live with it will define how our lives unfold. I miss my girls more than words can say. Anyone who has buried their child knows this gut wrenching misery. There was a time when I feared this day, the day I would say that my girls are JUST PART OF MY JOURNEY. The day that I would say my life is MORE than being their mom. I didn't expect I could ever say this. ...but I do now, and it's OK. It has not lessened the love or weakened the memories one bit. The LOVE never dies, so neither do they.

A Flock of Dove and a White Dress

Jacquelyn Small said we are not human beings learning to be spiritual; we are spiritual beings learning to be human.

Well I, for one, know that I am learning every day how to be both spiritual and human. As a spiritual being living a human life I spend too much time focusing on the human aspects of life (as well I should...I think) & I find myself forgetting about my spiritual self. Keep in mind that I am not talking about religion, but the spirit inside me. That energy, or life force, that was created and will live forever.

Then just as I am coasting along in this human existence something happens to shake it all up, to challenge me. As I mentioned in the previous blog post, we brought Cheyenne home after she was born and woke that first morning at home to a loud unfamiliar & somewhat annoying sound. When I opened the blinds I saw a HUGE flock of dove sitting in perfect soldier-like formation along the top of the entire fence line around the back yard. They had never been there before & it was truly a sight to see. As the next few years rolled by they became a permanent part of the family. Our dove.

When Cheyenne was 13 months old we had her baptized into our faith. Do we believe that it is a necessity to enter into heaven? No. We did it because we wanted to make a public commitment to her that we would raise her with the Holy Spirit. We would teach her to love, to be kind, to forgive, & most of all to know that she will never be alone because she was created by God.

(My MIL with her mom, Cheyenne, & me)

I made her baptism dress from scraps of dupioni silk left over from my wedding dress that my mom had made me. While I was working on the dress I had a vision that rattled me to my very core. I instantly stopped working & called my twin. Through my tears I described the vision I had of Cheyenne laying in a casket & wearing that white dress I was making. My sister talked me down off that cliff so well that I forgot all about it & went on in my human life with great joy...exactly what I should have been doing.

But that all changed two years later. Cheyenne passed suddenly from congestive heart failure at 3.5 years old. We drove home from the hospital without her & I remember so clearly that my color vision had gone. I was only seeing in black & white. The next morning, when I woke, the house was so quiet. No sounds of Cheyenne playing, or food cooking, ...or dove. I ran to the back window & opened the blinds. They were gone. Just like my little girl, the beautiful dove were all gone.

The funeral home called to tell us we had to bring something to dress her in for the funeral. I had no idea what to take. It was at that moment that my sister jumped up & said "I do!" She ran upstairs to Cheyenne's closet & pulled out the white dress. It still fit Cheyenne since she had not grown a lot & I made it kinda big in the first place. So we took the beautiful silk dress to the funeral home & they dressed my first born for her burial.

As I sat in church several weeks later, thinking how the absence of the dove was a constant reminder of Cheyenne's absence (as if I needed reminding), the pastor made a sudden & random reference to the holy trinity & the role of the dove. He reminded me that the dove was the Holy Spirit on Earth sent down to witness us as we lived our human lives. It was at that moment that it all made sense to me. Those dove were there to witness her life. When she went home so did they. Their job was done. Her job was done.

...and mine must continue.