On May 19th we had the service for the unveiling of my daughters headstone. This is a long standing Jewish tradition, and end to the first year of mourning, another ceremony to honor our lost loved ones lives.
I wanted to share what I suppose should be called a eulogy. What I spoke of when I honored my daughter... I did ad-lib a bit, but this is the gist of it.
In the past few weeks I have been trying to figure out what to say as we stand her next to my daughters graveside. I wanted to remark on her amazing life and all that there is to celebrate about her, to help lift us out of the sadness of this day.
I couldn't do it, my heart has been weighted down by the significance of this ceremony and I just couldn't do it.
And then last night I recalled a specific event. My daughter at two years old dragging me around by my finger as she led our way through a crowd of people. Just being around that many people would have had me crawling out of my skin, but my not quite two foot tall daughter could not be intimidated, and as in most of the adventures we had together, she carved the path that I would follow.
It was definitely true when we met our new family. Though they were most certainly hesitant when their son showed up with his new girlfriend and her daughter. My girl swept into their lives as if to say "whats not to love?" She certainly stole their hearts first. As she stole my husbands when she met him and he courted us. She was well aware that he fell in love with her first and she became his best friend, his cohort, his partner in crime.
She absorbed everything he could teach her about life and inspired him to be a father. I know that when it came to her there was never a question of how perfectly she fit into his life.
There is so much to celebrate and there are so many joyful memories to lift our hearts. This is an amazing gift. As I sort through the huge store of photos I am grateful for my need to document EVERYTHING, because each picture tells a story I might otherwise forget.
This is our job now, to remember, even though we are still devastated by her loss. We need to ensure that my son knows his oldest sister, even though he will only know her through the rest of us.
We need to remember her, and celebrate her, keeping in mind that, at least to me, she is really what brought us all together.
My husbands curiosity about the woman with that cute little kid, and the love story that started with three people and brought us all here.
It is difficult to think of blessings in a time of such loss, but we have done many things in the past year to stay connected to my daughter. From gathering together to grieve, to digging through photos and videos, to family trips for tattoos (which I'm sure entertained my girl to no end). We have come together again and again to honor and remember her.
By doing so we have strengthened our bonds as family and friends. This is her legacy, these are the things that I choose to focus on when I think of her, so that wherever her spirit is, she feels my love.
Sharing my story is another way of honoring her, and of hopefully helping others who are going through similar things - or perhaps derailing a similar loss. Thank you for reading.
Friday, May 31, 2013
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Anniversaries
Baby Girl,
I haven't been on speaking terms with you for the last couple of months. I'm so heartbroken by what you've done that I haven't been able to think of anything nice to say to you. How could you leave us? How could you do this to your sister? I have to see what she's going through, I have to be here and help her pick up the pieces... you left us! There is a part of me that just thinks you are such an asshole! You seriously screwed all of us up and it was so damn selfish.
But it's just because I miss you so much. You have left such a huge hole in all of our hearts and lives and I don't know what to do with it.
Life goes on. It's been close to a year since you left us and I am still broken. I won't exaggerate it. I have days where I am OK .. I have moments where I'm great... but every one of those moments is eventually tainted by the fact that you are not there to celebrate it with us.
What's changed in the past year? I don't feel guilty for thinking you're a jack-ass. Because you are, you put your immediate desires above your health and safety and it cost you your life, and it cost us you. If you were here I would punch you in the face for being such a jerk. I am not in the mood to paint a pretty little picture and talk about how much pain you were in and continue to try to understand and put your feelings first. You were a selfish jerk when you put that needle in your vein and you ditched us.
It doesn't diminish the fact that I love and adore you and my arms ache to hold you.
I have been sorting through pictures again so that I could get them scanned, in books, and out of the hidden corners that I am so horrified to stumble upon on a daily basis. I still can't go in the garage. I can't open the hallway cupboard, I can't go into my top left dresser drawer.... The little nooks that I stashed your things in to deal with on another day have started to haunt me. I've forgotten where all of them are and I am startled every time I stumble across something. They are traps and I keep getting caught up in them.
And now, in the month that has not one, but two anniversary dates of your passing (the Jewish calendar anniversary and the regular one), I am overwhelmed by the significance of actually making it to these dates. I didn't actually think that I would. It's not that I planned to do anything, I'm not remotely there... I just couldn't imagine living this long without you. And here we are, performing all that is expected of us, stepping through the nightmare of yet another cycle of ceremonies.
And our hearts are still broken. And our arms ache to hold you, and so we hold each other tighter and pray that we can continue to pick up the pieces and figure out how to be OK without you, and to stop feeling guilty about it when we feel like we might be.
I love you, Baby Girl. As much as I hate that you are gone, I hope that you are at peace and singing. I hope that you look down and watch your sister play lacrosse with pride because she puts her all into it, and she wants you to know. I hope that you watch your brother and laugh at his escapades. I hope that you can forgive me for my anger, and that I can forgive you for leaving us.
Forever,
Mommy
I haven't been on speaking terms with you for the last couple of months. I'm so heartbroken by what you've done that I haven't been able to think of anything nice to say to you. How could you leave us? How could you do this to your sister? I have to see what she's going through, I have to be here and help her pick up the pieces... you left us! There is a part of me that just thinks you are such an asshole! You seriously screwed all of us up and it was so damn selfish.
But it's just because I miss you so much. You have left such a huge hole in all of our hearts and lives and I don't know what to do with it.
Life goes on. It's been close to a year since you left us and I am still broken. I won't exaggerate it. I have days where I am OK .. I have moments where I'm great... but every one of those moments is eventually tainted by the fact that you are not there to celebrate it with us.
What's changed in the past year? I don't feel guilty for thinking you're a jack-ass. Because you are, you put your immediate desires above your health and safety and it cost you your life, and it cost us you. If you were here I would punch you in the face for being such a jerk. I am not in the mood to paint a pretty little picture and talk about how much pain you were in and continue to try to understand and put your feelings first. You were a selfish jerk when you put that needle in your vein and you ditched us.
It doesn't diminish the fact that I love and adore you and my arms ache to hold you.
I have been sorting through pictures again so that I could get them scanned, in books, and out of the hidden corners that I am so horrified to stumble upon on a daily basis. I still can't go in the garage. I can't open the hallway cupboard, I can't go into my top left dresser drawer.... The little nooks that I stashed your things in to deal with on another day have started to haunt me. I've forgotten where all of them are and I am startled every time I stumble across something. They are traps and I keep getting caught up in them.
And now, in the month that has not one, but two anniversary dates of your passing (the Jewish calendar anniversary and the regular one), I am overwhelmed by the significance of actually making it to these dates. I didn't actually think that I would. It's not that I planned to do anything, I'm not remotely there... I just couldn't imagine living this long without you. And here we are, performing all that is expected of us, stepping through the nightmare of yet another cycle of ceremonies.
And our hearts are still broken. And our arms ache to hold you, and so we hold each other tighter and pray that we can continue to pick up the pieces and figure out how to be OK without you, and to stop feeling guilty about it when we feel like we might be.
I love you, Baby Girl. As much as I hate that you are gone, I hope that you are at peace and singing. I hope that you look down and watch your sister play lacrosse with pride because she puts her all into it, and she wants you to know. I hope that you watch your brother and laugh at his escapades. I hope that you can forgive me for my anger, and that I can forgive you for leaving us.
Forever,
Mommy
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| Magical Princess |
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