Forty one years ago today, right now, I was in labor in the hospital. Woke up around 5 a.m. with contractions. I remember having everything ready to go, including a deck of cards, in case we would be there for awhile! Not necessary. We got to the hospital around 5:30, our beautiful daughter, Melissa Marie, was born at 1:19 p.m.
It was a balmy, calm morning for January. No snow on the ground. Yet.
Two days later (yep, they used to let you stay for a couple of days) we were ready to go home.
Our car wouldn't start. So Donny called his college roommate and best friend, Rick Kayser, to the rescue. Melissa and I were in the front seat (I was holding her!) and Donny was in the back seat. We drove by the Fortener house where there were a new Grandma and Grandpa and seven aunts and uncles waiting to see the baby. By the time we went home, there was snow on the ground and it was starting to pile up. So I held her up to the window for them to see.
Two weeks later we had a blizzard. The Blizzard of '78. I wasn't going anywhere anyway, so being stuck in the house wasn't necessarily a bad thing.
It was the beginning of a Wonderful Life. Truly.
We were young and inexperienced and didn't know any better. About anything. But we survived. We thrived.
Melissa was a good baby and a couple years later became a big sister. Then life got more interesting.
***
When Melissa was diagnosed with breast cancer, I started carrying a spiral notebook in my purse to take notes at doctor appointments, chemo treatments, notes during phone calls. By December of 2008, I had seven spiral notebooks filled with information, not just notes, but anecdotal information too. Things Melissa said that I didn't want to forget.
About a month ago, I was reading through the last one. I came to December 16, 2008. Melissa was talking about wanting to do something for Hospice (she was in Hospice at the time). Melissa never had enough pens/paper/notebooks/thank you notes/notecards. Or sparkly pens. She thought Hospice needed a Stationery Room.
I remember thinking about that right after she passed away. Wanting to do something like that for her. But a lot of other things happened instead. We did a lot of things that made US happy. And others remembered Melissa. An Award in Melissa's memory for the Fairmont Girls Basketball Program. A bench outside the athletic office. An amazing Scholarship Fundraiser. (So far 21 $1000 Scholarships have been awarded to students Fairmont High School, along with fees for Pay to Participate to seven students at Fairmont. The Cincinnati Kelts give the Keltic Pride Award in Fort's memory every year at their banquet. Donations to the Kelts for their Foundation to build a new pitch.
The Fort 5K. Three Susan Komen 3 Day/60 Mile Walks.
All things that we wanted. Or her friends wanted. To remember her. All things that made US happy.
Now we can do something that SHE wanted! Her Scholarship fund has grown (thanks to the Dreambuilders Foundation that invests the money) and thanks to the continued support of the Cincinnati Kelts. Their donation from the Breast Cancer Fundraiser every fall takes care of the Scholarships that are awarded every spring.
Finally we can do something that SHE wanted!!!!
I've talked to the Foundation Director of Donations at Hospice, and we will be donating money to start a "Stationery Room". They do not have a dedicated space for something like this, but there are ways we can fulfill her dream. They have a cart that they take from room to room with snacks. They will add Pens/Notecards/Journals/Thank You Notes to the cart. All free to anyone who is a patient at Hospice or their families. Also talking about maybe having a display in the Family/Friend lobbies at the end of each hall with stationery.
When I mentioned Journals, the director started telling me about a camp they run every summer for kids (7-17) who are grieving the loss of a loved one. "It's a typical camp. Swimming, hiking, fishing. But they also have sessions where they talk about their loss AND Journal."
So we are donating journals for the camp as well. AND she has someone designing a cover for the journals - incorporating FORT/butterflies/B POSITIVE in the design.
Our gift to her. And every year on her birthday we will make sure that the Stationery Room is funded.
Happy Birthday Melissa Marie! I know this is a gift you would love. And nothing could make us happier.
Love you Miss you. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY.
Saturday, January 5, 2019
Wednesday, January 2, 2019
TEN
years I have been posting here.
This is still Melissa's blog. It was her journey, now it's her MOM's journey.
How in the world do you survive ONE DAY when you lose a child? I had a couple of role models.
My parents and my daughter.
My parents, they lost their only son (my only brother) when he was 17. I was 18. We were pretty close. I was just out of high school, working full time when Steve passed away unexpectedly at home. As far as I know, there was no organization like Compassionate Friends in 1975. At least no one reached out to my parents like they do now. After my brother died, my mom and dad never talked about him...it was like he never existed. Except at Christmas, my Mom always put up all of our stockings. It's the only way I knew that she still thought about my brother. I remember my mom eventually went back to work, and every day she would come home and go straight to bed.
When I got married a year later, my mom was not involved at all. I didn't understand then, but I do NOW. We were planning a huge celebration and part of our family was missing. I honestly don't know how my mom and dad survived not talking about him.
A week before Mom passed away, she was in the hospital. We were sitting there one day and all of a sudden, she said "Steve! Get down from there!" Evidently my brother was in the room...waiting for my Mom I'm sure. She was looking up in the corner of the room...we didn't see anything, but MOM did!
My Dad would occasionally talk about Steve and baseball. Dad believed that Steve would have played for the Cincinnati Reds. When your child is gone, you can believe anything you want!
We took Dad to a Compassionate Friends picnic a couple of years ago. We had a balloon release and we all wrote messages on our balloons to our loved ones - Dad wrote more than anyone. I think it was the first time he "talked" to my brother. 40 years later.
After Mom passed away, my sister Sue passed away in 2013. My Dad lost two children. His way of dealing with Sue's death was to move to Florida permanently. Move away from the memories. Whatever works is what you do to get through the loss of a child. (It will be six years for Sue on Melissa's birthday this Saturday, January 5.)
Melissa lost her first and only child. I had no idea what to say. It was the second time I couldn't help my daughter. I couldn't make her cancer better, and I couldn't take her grief away. I know NOW the pain she was in, but I had never experienced that pain. She lost JP on Oct 19, 2003. Two months later, on Christmas Eve, I begged her to go to church with us. All I wanted was our entire family to go to church together. She was not ready for that, but she and John went anyway. As soon as we sat down, a young couple with a brand new baby sat down in front of us. Melissa and John got up and left.
I learned a lot of things from my parents and my daughter.
First of all, holding in the pain and not talking about them is not good for your health. My mom survived 32 years without my brother. She was never the same after Steve died. I often wonder how our lives would have been different had Steve not died. Sue's life would have been different for sure.
She and Steve were very close too. I'm not sure if my Mom had anyone to talk to after my brother died. Even forty years ago, it was something you just didn't talk about.
I remember getting the phone call from John (from the ambulance) when Melissa went into labor. "THE BABY'S COMING, THE BABY'S COMING" was all I heard - THAT and the siren in the background. I have no idea how we found the hospital in Cincinnati (Bethesda North), but we did.
It was the most heart wrenching scene you could ever imagine. John Patrick was born sleeping. We got to stay with them and John Patrick until Melissa was ready to go. She did not want to leave him at the hospital. It was awful.
I remember her getting back on her feet, going back to work, playing rugby, getting chemo treatments, living that B POSITIVE life that she wrote about on this blog. I worried a lot about her. Donny would always say "she has another battle to fight". That's what kept her going. She wanted to LIVE. And LIVE she did. Every day. But I also know that SHE wore the mask. The mask that we wear now. Smile when you are in public. Cry when you are in your car, in the shower, or alone anywhere. She only cried a couple of times in front of me. It was really hard for her when her friends started having babies. It's all she wanted. Kids. Three of them.
So my role models, my parents and my daughter, both dealt with the death of their child in similar ways. They didn't talk about them much. But they kept living their lives. Mom and Dad still had all of us over for the holidays. OF COURSE they should. We were still LIVING. They did it for us.
Behind closed doors, I know they talked about my brother. They wore "the mask" to be strong for everyone else. Because that's what we do. We keep everyone safe from the thought that this could be THEM. If we are smiling, everything is OK. Whew. "They are back to normal."
Not "normal". "New Normal" is more like it. Not a normal that we want. But we learn to live with the pain. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. It NEVER goes away. Ever. Imagine for a couple of seconds (bet you can't do it for a couple of minutes) that you will never see your child again. EVER.
I can see you shaking your head trying to get that thought out of your head. Can't even go there.
In fact, all of us have heard "I don't know how you do it. I couldn't."
Now - watch your friends who have walked this walk. Somehow, we (yep, there's a lot of us out there) eventually learn to go to the grocery store. To answer the phone. To go back to work. Took me a year to do some of those things. Some things I still can't do. I went to a session at the Compassionate Friends Conference about working through your grief. About how everything in your life is now "Before Melissa and After Melissa." How your life starts over after you lose a child...you are "born again" in a way. You start out crawling. Sleep a lot. Can't get up without help. That's the first couple of months. They called it your "age in grief years" Just like an infant you are learning to live (again).
I am TEN in grief years.
I am still a YOUTH in grief years. I still have a lot to learn. I make mistakes. I'm making new friends (just like a ten year old) - a lot through Compassionate Friends.
How in the world can it be ten years??? When I look at all the photos I've taken over the years, it keeps her close to me. We made great memories. We took a couple of trips together after she was diagnosed. We were BOTH picture takers. She was determined to leave memories for us. VISUAL memories. I need those.
I remember December 2008 like it was yesterday. EVERY detail. I remember how excited she was to come home from Hospice for Christmas. She said "This is the BEST Christmas EVER." It was just us - Melissa, John, Me, Donny, Nick, Mere & Andrew. It was quiet. Peaceful. Andrew was just starting to walk - in fact - he took his first steps to Melissa.
She loved having visitors. When I kind of pushed back a little because I thought she needed to rest, she asked me not to discourage visitors. She WANTED them. She wanted everyone to know she was going back to work. Always positive. Until she went back to Hospice a couple of days after Christmas. Then she said "Let's keep this on the DL." She slept a lot that last week. Unless Drew was visiting. She loved visits from her nephew.
January 2, 2009. She slept a lot that day. I had asked her friends to send birthday cards - she got a lot that day. I read every birthday card to her - they were all on the bookshelf where she could see them.
That night, Nick Mere and Andrew came to visit. She was so excited to see them. They left around 7:30...Nick said "See you in the morning Fort. Love you."
She said "Love you Nick."
That was the last thing she said. She went to sleep after he left. I was on one side of the bed, John was on the other. I stayed awake all night. I didn't want to miss ONE minute. One breath. I wanted to memorize her body. Her hands. They seemed so small that night...Some time in the middle of the night there was a tear. One tear from her right eye. Was she crying because she was leaving? Or was she crying because she was seeing her son for the first time in five years? I held her hand all night.
She took her last breath at 5:18 a.m. My beautiful daughter. My pretty girl....
So how do you survive even ONE minute without your child? I remember crying every day for two years. It's amazing that the body can make that many tears. I curled up in a ball on the couch and didn't do a whole lot. It was easy to do because it was winter.
But when I go back and look at pictures, it wasn't all tears. There were smiles too...
In ten years, I (we) accomplished a lot.
-We went on Spring Break 3 months after Melissa passed away. I didn't want to go, but we did.
-With the help of Angie and several other people, we organized a fundraiser in October that raised $24,000 for a Scholarship in Melissa's name.
-Did the 3 Day 60 mile Breast Cancer Walk in Atlanta two more times (first time was with Melissa) -and several fundraisers to raise $$ for the walks.
-Visited John and Diana in NC
-Reconnected with old friends (Marianne and Jaye who were my support group when I started taking care of Dad - they are taking care of their parents too)
-Reconnected with Wilmington friends who lost their daughter to Ovarian cancer, went on multiple cruises and trips with them
-FORT 5K - started by Bob Franz and his daughter Chelsea, now organized by the Fairmont Girls Basketball team - 5th annual 5K will be May 11 this year.
-Followed basketball to get through the difficult winter months - Fairmont/Notre Dame/OSU/Wright State/UD. Went to Final Four and National Championship Game to see Kathryn Westbeld play for ND - and WIN the National Championship
-Donny played in the Senior Olympics for Softball the summer after Melissa passed away
-I went on a trip with MM friends to Cape Cod the summer after Melissa passed (didn't want to go, but decided at the last minute to go. So glad I did - it was our last vacation with Jackie- she was diagnosed with cancer when we got back from the trip. Also multiple other trips with MM Friends).
-Watched our grandsons play baseball, football.
-Nick and Mere lived with us on weekends for a couple of months when their house was being built.
-Joined Compassionate Friends - monthly meetings - made a lot of close friends (Randi and Carolyn) and attended National Conference in Boston, Chicago, Dallas, Phoenix,Orlando, St. Louis and this year Philadelphia. Made new friends at every conference.
-Somehow survived the closing of Moraine Meadows the year after Melissa passed away. Transferred to Greenmont for 2 years, then retired.
-Attended all but one Cincinnati Kelts Breast Cancer Fundraisers.
-Went to California for a Conference for Donny (work related), went to Disney, San Diego (toured the USS Midway Aircraft Carrier that dad served on), also got tickets for the ELLEN Show.
-Took care of Dad for five years.
-Lost some along the way...my best friend Jackie and her husband Mike, my second mom, Ruth and her husband Bruce, my Sister and best friend Sue, good friends Mark and Bonnie Franz, and recently my Dad.
-Made some good friends along the way too. Randi and Carolyn, Mange, Mary and all their friends in Portsmouth, JaVonna Layfield from UD. And some wonderful parents of some wonderful basketball players at Fairmont.
-Planned three funerals - Jackie, Sue, Dad.
-Still walking 2-4 miles a day.
Seems like 10 years ago was YESTERDAY. How did all that happen? There were a lot of things I DIDN'T do, and I think those are the things people noticed. I didn't go out as much (especially in groups). I didn't respond to every invitation. I had to change things up a little to get through. But I (we) didn't stop living. Not at all.
A lot of positive things happened.
(I'll share one on Melissa's birthday - her birthday gift from us this year).
***
That's what I can remember. Have I changed in ten years? ABSOLUTELY. I have different friends. The friends that I was close with ten years ago aren't necessarily the ones I am closest to now (with the exception of two or three)...I stopped participating in group outings. Too difficult. STILL too difficult. (unless it's a group of Melissa's friends)Looking back, somehow we learned to LIVE again. My life has changed. I am not the same person I was ten years ago. THAT person had a beautiful daughter. I miss her more than you can even imagine. She was my best friend. My confidante. She gave me advice on a daily basis. She helped me decide what to wear. Or not to wear. She borrowed my clothes. My makeup. Anything she wanted. We loved to do things together . We got to take a couple of trips together.
Not enough though. None of that was enough. I wish I had new pictures. I wish I had more time.
She was an absolute treasure. And now all I have are the memories....
In ten years - Donny and I have a closer relationship. Nick and I are closer. We have wonderful friends through common loss that I can't imagine not having. We are only friends because we have the loss of a child in common. We have been able to help others who experience this loss...and have learned that helping is healing. We learned to laugh again. We've learned that we are not alone.
I've learned that in order to get through, it's best to take one day at a time. Thinking about a future without my daughter is too hard. I just get through today. Do I still have bad days? Yep. Especially days where I have time to think. That's a conundrum...thinking about her makes me sad...not thinking about her leaves me afraid that I'll forget something...I choose to THINK about her. Often. Memories make me smile. Not having the opportunity to make NEW memories makes me sad.
I KNOW now that I am not getting farther away from her (in the beginning that's what it felt like).
EVERY DAY is ONE DAY CLOSER to seeing her again.
And it makes my heart happy that she is with her Grandpa. And he is with her. They were two peas in a pod.
This is still Melissa's blog. It was her journey, now it's her MOM's journey.
How in the world do you survive ONE DAY when you lose a child? I had a couple of role models.
My parents and my daughter.
My parents, they lost their only son (my only brother) when he was 17. I was 18. We were pretty close. I was just out of high school, working full time when Steve passed away unexpectedly at home. As far as I know, there was no organization like Compassionate Friends in 1975. At least no one reached out to my parents like they do now. After my brother died, my mom and dad never talked about him...it was like he never existed. Except at Christmas, my Mom always put up all of our stockings. It's the only way I knew that she still thought about my brother. I remember my mom eventually went back to work, and every day she would come home and go straight to bed.
When I got married a year later, my mom was not involved at all. I didn't understand then, but I do NOW. We were planning a huge celebration and part of our family was missing. I honestly don't know how my mom and dad survived not talking about him.
A week before Mom passed away, she was in the hospital. We were sitting there one day and all of a sudden, she said "Steve! Get down from there!" Evidently my brother was in the room...waiting for my Mom I'm sure. She was looking up in the corner of the room...we didn't see anything, but MOM did!
My Dad would occasionally talk about Steve and baseball. Dad believed that Steve would have played for the Cincinnati Reds. When your child is gone, you can believe anything you want!
We took Dad to a Compassionate Friends picnic a couple of years ago. We had a balloon release and we all wrote messages on our balloons to our loved ones - Dad wrote more than anyone. I think it was the first time he "talked" to my brother. 40 years later.
After Mom passed away, my sister Sue passed away in 2013. My Dad lost two children. His way of dealing with Sue's death was to move to Florida permanently. Move away from the memories. Whatever works is what you do to get through the loss of a child. (It will be six years for Sue on Melissa's birthday this Saturday, January 5.)
Melissa lost her first and only child. I had no idea what to say. It was the second time I couldn't help my daughter. I couldn't make her cancer better, and I couldn't take her grief away. I know NOW the pain she was in, but I had never experienced that pain. She lost JP on Oct 19, 2003. Two months later, on Christmas Eve, I begged her to go to church with us. All I wanted was our entire family to go to church together. She was not ready for that, but she and John went anyway. As soon as we sat down, a young couple with a brand new baby sat down in front of us. Melissa and John got up and left.
I learned a lot of things from my parents and my daughter.
First of all, holding in the pain and not talking about them is not good for your health. My mom survived 32 years without my brother. She was never the same after Steve died. I often wonder how our lives would have been different had Steve not died. Sue's life would have been different for sure.
She and Steve were very close too. I'm not sure if my Mom had anyone to talk to after my brother died. Even forty years ago, it was something you just didn't talk about.
I remember getting the phone call from John (from the ambulance) when Melissa went into labor. "THE BABY'S COMING, THE BABY'S COMING" was all I heard - THAT and the siren in the background. I have no idea how we found the hospital in Cincinnati (Bethesda North), but we did.
It was the most heart wrenching scene you could ever imagine. John Patrick was born sleeping. We got to stay with them and John Patrick until Melissa was ready to go. She did not want to leave him at the hospital. It was awful.
I remember her getting back on her feet, going back to work, playing rugby, getting chemo treatments, living that B POSITIVE life that she wrote about on this blog. I worried a lot about her. Donny would always say "she has another battle to fight". That's what kept her going. She wanted to LIVE. And LIVE she did. Every day. But I also know that SHE wore the mask. The mask that we wear now. Smile when you are in public. Cry when you are in your car, in the shower, or alone anywhere. She only cried a couple of times in front of me. It was really hard for her when her friends started having babies. It's all she wanted. Kids. Three of them.
So my role models, my parents and my daughter, both dealt with the death of their child in similar ways. They didn't talk about them much. But they kept living their lives. Mom and Dad still had all of us over for the holidays. OF COURSE they should. We were still LIVING. They did it for us.
Behind closed doors, I know they talked about my brother. They wore "the mask" to be strong for everyone else. Because that's what we do. We keep everyone safe from the thought that this could be THEM. If we are smiling, everything is OK. Whew. "They are back to normal."
Not "normal". "New Normal" is more like it. Not a normal that we want. But we learn to live with the pain. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. It NEVER goes away. Ever. Imagine for a couple of seconds (bet you can't do it for a couple of minutes) that you will never see your child again. EVER.
I can see you shaking your head trying to get that thought out of your head. Can't even go there.
In fact, all of us have heard "I don't know how you do it. I couldn't."
Now - watch your friends who have walked this walk. Somehow, we (yep, there's a lot of us out there) eventually learn to go to the grocery store. To answer the phone. To go back to work. Took me a year to do some of those things. Some things I still can't do. I went to a session at the Compassionate Friends Conference about working through your grief. About how everything in your life is now "Before Melissa and After Melissa." How your life starts over after you lose a child...you are "born again" in a way. You start out crawling. Sleep a lot. Can't get up without help. That's the first couple of months. They called it your "age in grief years" Just like an infant you are learning to live (again).
I am TEN in grief years.
I am still a YOUTH in grief years. I still have a lot to learn. I make mistakes. I'm making new friends (just like a ten year old) - a lot through Compassionate Friends.
How in the world can it be ten years??? When I look at all the photos I've taken over the years, it keeps her close to me. We made great memories. We took a couple of trips together after she was diagnosed. We were BOTH picture takers. She was determined to leave memories for us. VISUAL memories. I need those.
I remember December 2008 like it was yesterday. EVERY detail. I remember how excited she was to come home from Hospice for Christmas. She said "This is the BEST Christmas EVER." It was just us - Melissa, John, Me, Donny, Nick, Mere & Andrew. It was quiet. Peaceful. Andrew was just starting to walk - in fact - he took his first steps to Melissa.
She loved having visitors. When I kind of pushed back a little because I thought she needed to rest, she asked me not to discourage visitors. She WANTED them. She wanted everyone to know she was going back to work. Always positive. Until she went back to Hospice a couple of days after Christmas. Then she said "Let's keep this on the DL." She slept a lot that last week. Unless Drew was visiting. She loved visits from her nephew.
January 2, 2009. She slept a lot that day. I had asked her friends to send birthday cards - she got a lot that day. I read every birthday card to her - they were all on the bookshelf where she could see them.
That night, Nick Mere and Andrew came to visit. She was so excited to see them. They left around 7:30...Nick said "See you in the morning Fort. Love you."
She said "Love you Nick."
That was the last thing she said. She went to sleep after he left. I was on one side of the bed, John was on the other. I stayed awake all night. I didn't want to miss ONE minute. One breath. I wanted to memorize her body. Her hands. They seemed so small that night...Some time in the middle of the night there was a tear. One tear from her right eye. Was she crying because she was leaving? Or was she crying because she was seeing her son for the first time in five years? I held her hand all night.
She took her last breath at 5:18 a.m. My beautiful daughter. My pretty girl....
So how do you survive even ONE minute without your child? I remember crying every day for two years. It's amazing that the body can make that many tears. I curled up in a ball on the couch and didn't do a whole lot. It was easy to do because it was winter.
But when I go back and look at pictures, it wasn't all tears. There were smiles too...
In ten years, I (we) accomplished a lot.
-We went on Spring Break 3 months after Melissa passed away. I didn't want to go, but we did.
-With the help of Angie and several other people, we organized a fundraiser in October that raised $24,000 for a Scholarship in Melissa's name.
-Did the 3 Day 60 mile Breast Cancer Walk in Atlanta two more times (first time was with Melissa) -and several fundraisers to raise $$ for the walks.
-Visited John and Diana in NC
-Reconnected with old friends (Marianne and Jaye who were my support group when I started taking care of Dad - they are taking care of their parents too)
-Reconnected with Wilmington friends who lost their daughter to Ovarian cancer, went on multiple cruises and trips with them
-FORT 5K - started by Bob Franz and his daughter Chelsea, now organized by the Fairmont Girls Basketball team - 5th annual 5K will be May 11 this year.
-Followed basketball to get through the difficult winter months - Fairmont/Notre Dame/OSU/Wright State/UD. Went to Final Four and National Championship Game to see Kathryn Westbeld play for ND - and WIN the National Championship
-Donny played in the Senior Olympics for Softball the summer after Melissa passed away
-I went on a trip with MM friends to Cape Cod the summer after Melissa passed (didn't want to go, but decided at the last minute to go. So glad I did - it was our last vacation with Jackie- she was diagnosed with cancer when we got back from the trip. Also multiple other trips with MM Friends).
-Watched our grandsons play baseball, football.
-Nick and Mere lived with us on weekends for a couple of months when their house was being built.
-Joined Compassionate Friends - monthly meetings - made a lot of close friends (Randi and Carolyn) and attended National Conference in Boston, Chicago, Dallas, Phoenix,Orlando, St. Louis and this year Philadelphia. Made new friends at every conference.
-Somehow survived the closing of Moraine Meadows the year after Melissa passed away. Transferred to Greenmont for 2 years, then retired.
-Attended all but one Cincinnati Kelts Breast Cancer Fundraisers.
-Went to California for a Conference for Donny (work related), went to Disney, San Diego (toured the USS Midway Aircraft Carrier that dad served on), also got tickets for the ELLEN Show.
-Took care of Dad for five years.
-Lost some along the way...my best friend Jackie and her husband Mike, my second mom, Ruth and her husband Bruce, my Sister and best friend Sue, good friends Mark and Bonnie Franz, and recently my Dad.
-Made some good friends along the way too. Randi and Carolyn, Mange, Mary and all their friends in Portsmouth, JaVonna Layfield from UD. And some wonderful parents of some wonderful basketball players at Fairmont.
-Planned three funerals - Jackie, Sue, Dad.
-Still walking 2-4 miles a day.
Seems like 10 years ago was YESTERDAY. How did all that happen? There were a lot of things I DIDN'T do, and I think those are the things people noticed. I didn't go out as much (especially in groups). I didn't respond to every invitation. I had to change things up a little to get through. But I (we) didn't stop living. Not at all.
A lot of positive things happened.
(I'll share one on Melissa's birthday - her birthday gift from us this year).
***
That's what I can remember. Have I changed in ten years? ABSOLUTELY. I have different friends. The friends that I was close with ten years ago aren't necessarily the ones I am closest to now (with the exception of two or three)...I stopped participating in group outings. Too difficult. STILL too difficult. (unless it's a group of Melissa's friends)Looking back, somehow we learned to LIVE again. My life has changed. I am not the same person I was ten years ago. THAT person had a beautiful daughter. I miss her more than you can even imagine. She was my best friend. My confidante. She gave me advice on a daily basis. She helped me decide what to wear. Or not to wear. She borrowed my clothes. My makeup. Anything she wanted. We loved to do things together . We got to take a couple of trips together.
Not enough though. None of that was enough. I wish I had new pictures. I wish I had more time.
She was an absolute treasure. And now all I have are the memories....
In ten years - Donny and I have a closer relationship. Nick and I are closer. We have wonderful friends through common loss that I can't imagine not having. We are only friends because we have the loss of a child in common. We have been able to help others who experience this loss...and have learned that helping is healing. We learned to laugh again. We've learned that we are not alone.
I've learned that in order to get through, it's best to take one day at a time. Thinking about a future without my daughter is too hard. I just get through today. Do I still have bad days? Yep. Especially days where I have time to think. That's a conundrum...thinking about her makes me sad...not thinking about her leaves me afraid that I'll forget something...I choose to THINK about her. Often. Memories make me smile. Not having the opportunity to make NEW memories makes me sad.
I KNOW now that I am not getting farther away from her (in the beginning that's what it felt like).
EVERY DAY is ONE DAY CLOSER to seeing her again.
And it makes my heart happy that she is with her Grandpa. And he is with her. They were two peas in a pod.
January 3, 2019
Melissa 10 years in heaven...
Grandpa one month in heaven.
This makes my heart happy.
Love you Miss you Melissa (and Dad)!!!!
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