Today marks 2 months since Catherine suddenly left our world. I'm not sure how it is possible. One would think as time goes by, it would be less painful but I can say that 2 months into this, every day seems a little more painful.
With each passing day, we are realizing more and more her absence. We are realizing the things she will never do. We are grieving her loss even more. And despite being 2 months in, there are days when I still think I need to text her to ask a question. Or Sunday morning when I woke up, I thought I would let her sleep in because it was her first weekend with no band competition. And then the memory hits and you are faced with pain. Then the realization that there will be no more texts or sleeping late.
Today has been tough. I woke up with anxiety and it has stuck with me all day. In fact, I'm not even sure how I made it through my work day. My chest was tight all day and I felt like I was on the verge of tears. I didn't realize how much this has changed me until today. One of my favorite people told me I had another personality. It was grief. He was right. As much as I try to fight to remain myself, this other personality is constantly working to take over. I'm not the same person I was 2 months ago. I'm anxious a lot and have a ton of irrational fears. And it sucks, because at 36, I was really liking the person I had become.
Today that change was evident. Max stayed home sick from school. It happens with him sometimes and it is better to just let him rest, give his immune system a chance to catch up. I left him with instructions to keep his iPod next to him and text or FaceTime me if he needed anything. It was also promised that he would text me back if I text him. He text me at 7:30 and asked a question. I checked in on him at 8:30 and there was no answer. I text again. And again. Each message showed delivered but not read. I started to panic. So I tried to FaceTime him. Nothing. And another text was sent. Still nothing. I started to panic even more. My heart was racing. I was demanding that Josh go home and check on him. He was calmly telling me to take a Xanax and calm down. I started pacing the building. Freaking out and running through every possible scenario. After I felt like enough time had passed, I started calling Josh. By this point I thought I was going to pass out. Josh finally answered and said he had just walked in the door and was waking Max up. The poor sick child was sound asleep and I was 15 miles away ready to lose my mind. I just knew I had lost another child and the feeling was paralyzing. The laid back mom I used to be died with Catherine.
Through all this, I am fighting to be me but it seems like this personality of grief is slowly taking over. The things I used to love no longer bring me joy. I've become very sociable again, which is something I stopped doing years ago. I am constantly trying to escape the grief and who it is trying to make me become. I don't want to be bitter and sad for the rest of my life. But how is a mother that lost her teenage daughter supposed to be? There is no clear answer.
It has been 2 months since I lost my girl. That is 60 days, 1440 hours, 86,400 minutes, 5,184,000 seconds that I have been without that precious daughter of mine. All our inside jokes are gone, our memories that only she and I would know are gone, her future is gone, her laughter and smile and light is gone. It is all gone. Someone described losing a teenager to me in the beginning and I use this analogy often. Imagine creating a 5 tier wedding cake. All the decorations are done, the flowers are artfully created, there are pearls, and it is beautiful. You go to put the cake topper on and the whole thing flips off the counter and hits the floor. All that time and work and creating is now destroyed. There is no fixing that mess in the floor. It is ruined. It is gone. And what are you left with? A mess and sadness. It's been 2 months. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to clean up this mess and go on.
With each passing day, we are realizing more and more her absence. We are realizing the things she will never do. We are grieving her loss even more. And despite being 2 months in, there are days when I still think I need to text her to ask a question. Or Sunday morning when I woke up, I thought I would let her sleep in because it was her first weekend with no band competition. And then the memory hits and you are faced with pain. Then the realization that there will be no more texts or sleeping late.
Today has been tough. I woke up with anxiety and it has stuck with me all day. In fact, I'm not even sure how I made it through my work day. My chest was tight all day and I felt like I was on the verge of tears. I didn't realize how much this has changed me until today. One of my favorite people told me I had another personality. It was grief. He was right. As much as I try to fight to remain myself, this other personality is constantly working to take over. I'm not the same person I was 2 months ago. I'm anxious a lot and have a ton of irrational fears. And it sucks, because at 36, I was really liking the person I had become.
Today that change was evident. Max stayed home sick from school. It happens with him sometimes and it is better to just let him rest, give his immune system a chance to catch up. I left him with instructions to keep his iPod next to him and text or FaceTime me if he needed anything. It was also promised that he would text me back if I text him. He text me at 7:30 and asked a question. I checked in on him at 8:30 and there was no answer. I text again. And again. Each message showed delivered but not read. I started to panic. So I tried to FaceTime him. Nothing. And another text was sent. Still nothing. I started to panic even more. My heart was racing. I was demanding that Josh go home and check on him. He was calmly telling me to take a Xanax and calm down. I started pacing the building. Freaking out and running through every possible scenario. After I felt like enough time had passed, I started calling Josh. By this point I thought I was going to pass out. Josh finally answered and said he had just walked in the door and was waking Max up. The poor sick child was sound asleep and I was 15 miles away ready to lose my mind. I just knew I had lost another child and the feeling was paralyzing. The laid back mom I used to be died with Catherine.
Through all this, I am fighting to be me but it seems like this personality of grief is slowly taking over. The things I used to love no longer bring me joy. I've become very sociable again, which is something I stopped doing years ago. I am constantly trying to escape the grief and who it is trying to make me become. I don't want to be bitter and sad for the rest of my life. But how is a mother that lost her teenage daughter supposed to be? There is no clear answer.
It has been 2 months since I lost my girl. That is 60 days, 1440 hours, 86,400 minutes, 5,184,000 seconds that I have been without that precious daughter of mine. All our inside jokes are gone, our memories that only she and I would know are gone, her future is gone, her laughter and smile and light is gone. It is all gone. Someone described losing a teenager to me in the beginning and I use this analogy often. Imagine creating a 5 tier wedding cake. All the decorations are done, the flowers are artfully created, there are pearls, and it is beautiful. You go to put the cake topper on and the whole thing flips off the counter and hits the floor. All that time and work and creating is now destroyed. There is no fixing that mess in the floor. It is ruined. It is gone. And what are you left with? A mess and sadness. It's been 2 months. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to clean up this mess and go on.
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