I drove "into town" the other day and on the side of the road I spotted my neighbor. She was walking on the side of the road. I quickly pulled over and asked her if she needed a ride somewhere. She did. Looking back I am surprised that my synapses were firing quickly enough to even notice her, recognize her, and pull over. Usually when I am driving my mind is miles away thinking about my girl.
I drove her to her job which she described as helping "lower functioning women." Immediately I said, "That is ME!" I am a lower functioning woman. She tried to assure me that I was not, but after I dropped her off I took a life inventory if you will. I think "lower function" is the perfect description. No one would expect me to be high functioning, but I wonder how long I will be firing on fewer cylinders. a year? five? I have no expectations for myself, but am trying and fulfill commitments I previously made. Motherhood namely. I want to be a good mom to my surviving children. I'm desperate to provide them with more love than they can process. I want them to feel whole and complete and happy. All things I felt until October. I had 30 some odd years (off and on) of this. I want it for them. More than I can begin to describe. I have never known pain like this pain, and I just want to save them from it at such a young age.
I feel like there should be a transitional period... not sure how long, but at least time where there is always someone available to you. Someone to play hide and seek with your kids and handle everything that feels impossible. My family/friends rescued me from a lot, but they have their own lives to live. I am talking a live in permanent fill in for myself. It is all too difficult... all of it. I needed/need a clone, someone to tag me out when I can't handle my life. Yes, someone who I can tag in and out of my life with. That's what I needed. It's not going to happen, I recognized, but if there is something that could have been ordered up... it is a mommy clone. One mommy to cry all day, and one mommy to pick up pieces of her shattered world. I have so much to write about those days... but I'm just not ready yet.
Having Mia return to heaven is unbearable and then the days following felt like hell on earth. Um, well here you go... here are your daily tasks. Besides simply getting out of bed there is so much to do. Decide a million things for funeral arrangements (makes me want to throw up still), try to look people in the eye, try not to lash out at do gooders, keep the awful reality of my life at bay...just long enough until I could be alone to lose my mind. I felt like I did nothing, but somehow still was doing more than I wanted to. I felt like a zombie but had to continue to do whatever it was I was doing. Oh and I can't forget to comfort my children. Here are another three bills for hospital services so don't forget to address them. Shouldn't this be illegal? To send bill after bill to the parents who's girl went to heaven? Lastly, just for an added bonus it felt like someone informed me, "we are going to remove all oxygen from your life so you feel like you can not breathe... ever. Good luck with that. go."
I write in past tense, but I feel this way much of my day still. I am a lower functioning woman and imagine I will be for sometime. and that is ok. Lower functioning and full of anger. It's a lovely combination really. Hi, my name is Mimi, and I am a "lower functioning" individual. There, it's out there. Please don't expect much from me.
I'm just angry. Angry I didn't get to say goodbye! Angry that she is not here! Angry that I am supposed to somehow be graceful and composed while my sweet girl was yanked out of life! Angry that the "old Mimi" the one people appreciated is obliterated. Angry that I don't want to be cheerful and positive! Angry that Christmas is almost here and I think it is all STUPID! Angry that I have ridiculous agonizing temper tantrums as an adult! Angry that my daughter will not experience everything I had planned for her in THIS life! THIS one! I want her in THISSSS ONE! I am nail spitting angry and there is no getting around the anger.
I recognize that I might not ever be better to the point of feeling like my sadness has resolved, but will have days where I am OK. It sounds super depressing to resign myself to the fact that I might never feel happiness the way I would like to feel it. There is and will continue to be happy moments in my day, and I guess for now I will just have to cling to them for survival.