Today was one of those days that I saw coming and prayed wouldn't happen. It was the perfect storm. While we are finding a new groove, the reality of the situation and our grief is always present. Finding a groove helps, but it doesn't erase what happened.
The morning started out rough. Max couldn't find his polo shirts, he accused Charlie of sabotage (brothers....geez), the baby wanted Charlie instead of Max, and he didn't feel good. He sat in my bathroom and cried this morning. Max is my one that isn't grieving. He is as unattached from the situation as possible. With missing half his immune system, any type of stress or major event can take a toll on his health. This morning his skin was broken out and he looked awful. I sent him to school to give it a try and promised him that someone would take him to the doctor. Sending my grieving son to school was trigger number one. As I dropped the baby off at daycare, they told me he was grieving in his own way by biting and having other issues. That was trigger number two. On the way to work, an ambulance passed by with its lights flashing and sirens blaring. That was trigger number three. By the time I got to work, I was a mess. I fell apart. I'm not one that cries. Especially not in public. And especially not at work. Yet the tears flowed freely. I couldn't breathe and I felt like the world was collapsing all around me. It was scary and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. How in the world was I supposed to function with my kids falling apart while my daughter was gone from this earth? And the one person I wanted to talk to through it all was my Catherine. She had a way with me that no one ever had. She got me and knew how to comfort me. She would have made me laugh. She wasn't there. While sitting at my desk, desperate to pull it together, a coworker saw me losing it. She asked what she could do and all I could do was let her know it was a bad morning. A few minutes later she came back and told me to come with her. We walked to the production floor where there was a pile of boxes waiting for me. She told me that while she didn't have any furniture for me to destroy, she did have boxes. I instantly starting breaking down boxes. So carefully, I took each one apart. Another coworker stopped me and told me it wasn't about breaking down the boxes but about destruction. He told me to tear the damn things apart. So I did. Box after box, they kept coming. The pile of destroyed boxes got taller while my anxiety got smaller. I love my job and my coworkers. There is a reason why it is my safe place. I will forever be grateful to those two coworkers and warned one of them they would make it to my blog.
Once I calmed myself down, I realized I had to still deal with Maxwell. He was still at school and by 9am the school called and let me know he wasn't well. The nurse knows Max very well and wouldn't call if it wasn't important. I let the appropriate people know I was leaving and why, and went and got my boy. A trip to the doctor told us it was something viral and a steroid was given, a lunch consisting of Catherine's favorites was consumed, and my sweet boy seemed to be better. We came home and while I worked at the dining room table, Josh helped Max get his room in order and found the missing polo shirts.
The evening was spent at my mother's house. She and Jack cooked a delicious meal, complete with dessert. All was well until a fight between Max and Charlie took place. It was long overdue. Charlie got the best of Max and THAT was the catalyst to have Max's grief come to the surface. I held him as he sobbed for his sister. He wanted her back. Fighting with Charlie made the pain of losing his sister seem not too bad. Max was devastated. We loaded the boys up and headed home with Max sobbing the whole way. Chas was able to come get Charlie for the night and we are working to help Max through this grief. He doesn't want to deal with it and so he is suppressing it all down. While these moments are heartbreaking, they are also cathartic.
Grief is fickle. Days go by that no tears fall. Sometimes all it takes is one moment or lots of moments and the tears flow freely. Everyone in our house is dealing with it differently.
Four weeks ago tonight, Catherine came home from band practice. She worked on her laundry, she did her homework, she sent her nightly snapchats, she wandered the upstairs around midnight, she was getting her stuff ready for Wednesday. Four weeks ago tonight, Josh and I went to bed, expecting to get up in the morning and go through our regular routine. We had no idea that our lives, and the lives of our family and friends and town, would be forever changed.
Grief is fickle. And while there are good days, what goes up, must come down. I would ask that you pray for our family. Especially our four boys. Not a day goes by that I don't miss her. My heart feels broken daily. I sometimes forget and go to text her, and I'm reminded that she isn't there. It is like being punched in the gut. Hug your kids. Love on them. I wish to God I could love on my girl.
The morning started out rough. Max couldn't find his polo shirts, he accused Charlie of sabotage (brothers....geez), the baby wanted Charlie instead of Max, and he didn't feel good. He sat in my bathroom and cried this morning. Max is my one that isn't grieving. He is as unattached from the situation as possible. With missing half his immune system, any type of stress or major event can take a toll on his health. This morning his skin was broken out and he looked awful. I sent him to school to give it a try and promised him that someone would take him to the doctor. Sending my grieving son to school was trigger number one. As I dropped the baby off at daycare, they told me he was grieving in his own way by biting and having other issues. That was trigger number two. On the way to work, an ambulance passed by with its lights flashing and sirens blaring. That was trigger number three. By the time I got to work, I was a mess. I fell apart. I'm not one that cries. Especially not in public. And especially not at work. Yet the tears flowed freely. I couldn't breathe and I felt like the world was collapsing all around me. It was scary and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. How in the world was I supposed to function with my kids falling apart while my daughter was gone from this earth? And the one person I wanted to talk to through it all was my Catherine. She had a way with me that no one ever had. She got me and knew how to comfort me. She would have made me laugh. She wasn't there. While sitting at my desk, desperate to pull it together, a coworker saw me losing it. She asked what she could do and all I could do was let her know it was a bad morning. A few minutes later she came back and told me to come with her. We walked to the production floor where there was a pile of boxes waiting for me. She told me that while she didn't have any furniture for me to destroy, she did have boxes. I instantly starting breaking down boxes. So carefully, I took each one apart. Another coworker stopped me and told me it wasn't about breaking down the boxes but about destruction. He told me to tear the damn things apart. So I did. Box after box, they kept coming. The pile of destroyed boxes got taller while my anxiety got smaller. I love my job and my coworkers. There is a reason why it is my safe place. I will forever be grateful to those two coworkers and warned one of them they would make it to my blog.
Once I calmed myself down, I realized I had to still deal with Maxwell. He was still at school and by 9am the school called and let me know he wasn't well. The nurse knows Max very well and wouldn't call if it wasn't important. I let the appropriate people know I was leaving and why, and went and got my boy. A trip to the doctor told us it was something viral and a steroid was given, a lunch consisting of Catherine's favorites was consumed, and my sweet boy seemed to be better. We came home and while I worked at the dining room table, Josh helped Max get his room in order and found the missing polo shirts.
The evening was spent at my mother's house. She and Jack cooked a delicious meal, complete with dessert. All was well until a fight between Max and Charlie took place. It was long overdue. Charlie got the best of Max and THAT was the catalyst to have Max's grief come to the surface. I held him as he sobbed for his sister. He wanted her back. Fighting with Charlie made the pain of losing his sister seem not too bad. Max was devastated. We loaded the boys up and headed home with Max sobbing the whole way. Chas was able to come get Charlie for the night and we are working to help Max through this grief. He doesn't want to deal with it and so he is suppressing it all down. While these moments are heartbreaking, they are also cathartic.
Grief is fickle. Days go by that no tears fall. Sometimes all it takes is one moment or lots of moments and the tears flow freely. Everyone in our house is dealing with it differently.
Four weeks ago tonight, Catherine came home from band practice. She worked on her laundry, she did her homework, she sent her nightly snapchats, she wandered the upstairs around midnight, she was getting her stuff ready for Wednesday. Four weeks ago tonight, Josh and I went to bed, expecting to get up in the morning and go through our regular routine. We had no idea that our lives, and the lives of our family and friends and town, would be forever changed.
Grief is fickle. And while there are good days, what goes up, must come down. I would ask that you pray for our family. Especially our four boys. Not a day goes by that I don't miss her. My heart feels broken daily. I sometimes forget and go to text her, and I'm reminded that she isn't there. It is like being punched in the gut. Hug your kids. Love on them. I wish to God I could love on my girl.
I don't know you or your cousin personally, but I've read her blog for years and that's how I found you. My heart is broken for you. I've been thinking about you and your sweet girl for days now. Your relationship reminds me of me and my daughter. I wish so much for you that she was still here on Earth. Thank goodness for your co-workers this morning giving you an outlet for your grief. Hugs and prayers.
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