Author: mommy

Forever In My Heart Friday. FIMHF. Week 37. (April 1, 2009.  I got my kids good today. When each of the girls got up this morning I told them that school was canceled because a car ran into an electric pole and so there was no electricity at the school.  So right in the middle of their happy dance I yelled, “April Fools!” -Timehop-)

One fear that is universal with parents who have lost a child is the fear that over time we will forget all of the many details about our child. Those details and moments that make such an impact at the time, but never in a million years would we think how important it would be to remember as much as possible, because the memories are all we have left. We so badly yearn to remember everything. The tiny curve of her of lips when she smiled. Her puffy cheeks. The smell of her hair. The way her voice sounded when she said, “I love you, Mom.” The sound of her voice when she walked through the door and said, “What’s for supper? It smells so good.” The way her eyes lit up when she was happy. We are so afraid. Not to mention the memories we forget, but your never did and would often remind us of. Then when your child is gone, we no longer have them here to remind us of those.  It’s times like this we wish we could somehow futuristically record each of those moments in a special archive in our futuristic brain, and pull them out at any given moment to enjoy them all over again.  Never to be forgotten again.d — so afraid that those things will be lost and we will not be able to remember everything that was so uniquely special about our child! And, that’s why so many times parents can’t part with their child’s clothing or toys. That’s why parents often leave their child’s room just as it was the day their child left. Parents aren’t stuck in grief. They simply want to remember everything about their precious child who is no longer here.

The other day I was going through Myesha’s baby book. I read each page.  Each entry as if I had just wrote it.  I sat there thinking, and overthinking, about each momentous milestone.  Her first words.  The day she rolled over for the first time. The day she took her first steps.  Each and every milestone that we as parents look forward to.  My favorite was reading how her Grandma Clara Wakefield taught her to blow kisses at 11mos old.  But Myesha would not blow them off the palm of her hand.  Instead, she would blow them off the back of her hand.  I just sat there with tears finding their way quickly down my cheeks.  Remembering that moment.  The way she looked.  Her mannerisms when she did just that.  I was crying because I realized at that very moment I had forgot all about that.  Like so many other momentous occasions in her life, I came to the realization that I would never be able to remember all of them. So now I have found I am simply nothing short of a hoarder of Myesha belongings.  Clothing, pictures, videos, anything Myesha ever wrote, has now become my treasure chest of memories. I often look at her pictures on my phone and touch her face, I whisper to the picture, “I wish you were here.”

So many of you must wonder why parents who have lost a child will tell you that time does not heal. Because realistically, the death of our child should be known as the longest day of our lives, it’s the day that never really ends. Time will never take away the pain. The ache of loss is always there. The pain resides in our hearts forever. The love for our child is the deepest, purest, most selfless giving love that we can experience. So when our child dies, we are changed forever and will always have a hole in our hearts because our precious child was taken away from us all too soon. Our child’s innocence and vulnerability and our perceived inability to protect them from death leaves us nothing short of feeling powerless and helpless. The grief a parent experiences lasts a lifetime, but the intensity of our feelings will vary over time. Eventually, happy memories of our child will be a source of comfort and solace. Eventually, we find that our grief is less intense and eases over time. That does not mean that we are over our grief, because that never happens, but that we are finding a way to re-engage in life without our child here with us. FIM <3 F Mommy love you Myesha!!

Forever In My Heart Friday FIMHF Week 35. So as were driving to Exploration Place Wednesday Corban inquires “Is it true that people can go to sleep, never wake up, and die?” I respond, “Not normally. Only if they are really sick and their bodies shut down.” I should have seen where this was going. He then asks, “So is that what happened to Myesha?” I catch my breath for a moment, as I often have to do when these question arise. “Yes kind of. Myesha had that surgery on her ankle and it got infected. It made her really sick and even though the doctor’s tried to fix it, it was too late and the infection moved all through her body. She was not strong enough to continue to fight the infection.” He responded quickly, yet perplexed, “So why didn’t someone tell Myesha that if she went to sleep that she wasn’t going to wake up and that she would die?” I feel my heart sinking lower and lower into my chest. “Because Corban, Myesha didn’t know that she was not going to wake up. She was very tired and her body just couldn’t handle it anymore. God knew she was in a lot of pain and he doesn’t like to see us in pain, so he felt like it was time to take her to Heaven where she wouldn’t be in pain anymore.” He asked no more questions and starred quietly out the window towards the sky.
July 16, 2015, about 1 hour prior to surgery. I’m standing next to Myesha who is now lying in her bed in the ICU, providing comforting words prior to surgery, when my cell phone rings. It’s Corban. “Hey Mommy! How is Myesha?” “She’s doing good son. She’s getting ready to go to surgery soon. Do you want to talk to her?” I ask. “Yes!” he quickly answers. I put him on speaker phone and hold the phone next to Myesha, “Hey bubby!” “Hi Myesha. How are you doing?” you can hear the excitement in his voice. “I’m doing good. What are you doing?” she asks. Corban proceeds to chitter chattered on and on, “Well I lost a tooth this morning!! I pulled it all out by myself! I didn’t even have to have Melanie do it for me! But I got blood all over the bathroom.” Myesha smiles, “Well that’s good! That means the Tooth Fairy is going to come see you tonight!” she says. Corban responds, “I know!” Then I see her look at me and look back at the phone. “Hey bubby, I’m really sorry, but I’m probably not going to make it to your birthday party Saturday. The doctor’s said I will probably have to stay in the hospital for a couple of days until I get better. But I promise that I will make it up to you, okay?” The silence on the phone was brief, “Okay….well we can always just wait until you get out and then just have my birthday party then, okay!” he proposed. “Okay.” she says. “Well I have to get off the phone now but I you have fun swimming today with Trin and Emma and Chloe, okay! I love you!” He replies, “Okay, I will. I love you too!” That was the last time Corban ever spoke to his sister Myesha.
My son not only lost his sister the day before his originally scheduled birthday party that we had to cancel, but 3 days prior to his 7th birthday. A birthday he will never forget. A birthday where the inflatable water slide that I put up and prepared earlier that week for his party would end up staying there in the backyard for weeks, until I finally took it down and just put it in the trash. A slide that I spent hundreds of dollars on that my children shared so many memories on, so much laughter, every summer. A waterslide that had now left a huge bare spot in the backyard where the grass died and has yet to regrow back to this day.
I will never forget leaving Myesha in that hospital after she died. Leaving her in that hospital bed lifeless. Her body now getting cold. Her fingers and hands that I held so tightly for hours, cold. Her cheeks that I caressed with my fingers, cold. I attempted multiple times to leave after several hours had passed. I would say my goodbyes, kiss her, stroke her hair, lay across her body, hold her, love her, sing to her, talk to her. But I just couldn’t leave my baby there. I would no sooner walk out in the hallway, then to turn around and go right back in. Only to repeat the whole process all over again.
The final walk down the hospital corridor to the exit seemed longer than ever. All I had to take with me was 2 hospital bags left of her belongings. Chloe’s fingers locked in mine as we walked side by side slowly and quietly. The nurses and staff around us hung their heads down. It was as if you could feel the darkness of death encompassing everyone. I had to stop several times during that walk of “it’s over, she’s gone”, because I just wanted to turn around and go back. Chloe didn’t want to leave either. We pressed on through the manual revolving doors. It was dark outside now. By the time we got to the parking lot, Chloe collapsed on the pavement. Grief and sadness had overcome her and all I could do was stand there and look at her. Death and shock had officially struck us both. I eventually pulled her off the ground and we made our way to the van. As I sat in the backseat I stared out the window. I looked down at the two green bags next to me. “She’s gone. She’s really gone.” The tears welled up in my eyes and made the street lights seem like blurs of dingy yellow lights in the night sky. Then it hit me. How am I going to go home and tell Corban that his sister was dead? That she wasn’t coming home. That she would not only be absent from his birthday party, but that she would never celebrate another birthday with us again. Ever!
By the time I got home I was physically tired. I was emotional and mentally exhausted. Corban was anxiously waiting for us downstairs. He came bounding up the stairs when he heard us walk in the door. “Where’s Myesha. Is she still at the hospital? When is she coming home?” He blurted out. I just looked at him. My face felt numb at this point from crying. The look on my face I’m sure was nothing short of expressionless. “She’s still at the hospital Corban. No she’s not coming home tonight. But Mommy is really tired so we will talk more tomorrow, okay.” I suggested. “Okay.” He spat and ran back downstairs to his game. I couldn’t do it. Not tonight anyways. I walked up to my room and collapsed on my bed. As much as I tried to hold it in, my emotions came out like an uproar from my throat in the form of a silent scream in my pillow. The salty beads of tears started falling down one after another, with no signs of stopping. Releasing all of my sadness and sorrow. How was I going to do this??
The next morning when Corban finally woke up I called him into my room. I pulled him in bed with me and just held him and snuggled with him as we do every morning. My mind was racing. My thoughts scattered all over the place like seeds in the wind. Where do I even start? What will he understand? “Corban, I need to talk to you about Myesha.” He sat up and looked over at me. I sat up and held his hands in mine. “Remember how I told you Myesha got really sick because of her ankle surgery. Well it made her so sick that her body just couldn’t fight anymore and she got very tired. God knew how tired she was and he didn’t want her to be in anymore pain so he sent his Angel’s to take her to Heaven.” The look on his face was one of bewilderment. “So she’s not coming home? She’s not coming back?” he stuttered. “No honey, she’s not.” I sighed. “So can I go to the hospital and see her? Is she still there? Where is her body?” he pleaded. “Her body is still here on Earth but her soul is now in Heaven. So no honey, you can’t go see her again. I’m sorry baby.” I sobbed. His face. The look on his face. So confused. So lost. “So she’s not coming to my birthday party??” he asked quietly. “No honey, I’m sorry she’s not.” I said. “But I’m going to miss her.” he sniffled and hung his head down. “I’m going to miss her too baby…”
Myesha was never going to walk through the door again. Corban’s oldest sister was gone. Like his sister, Chloe, he didn’t even get to say goodbye. Siblings are the forgotten griever, but the pain is very real and intense. This type of guilt is often referred to as sibling survivor guilt and can take many forms. Guilt that they have a chance to live their lives, but their sibling does not. Not being there when she died or not appreciating the time they had together while they had it. All aspects of their lives are affected. Their health, behavior, schoolwork, self-esteem, and development. They will now respond to the death of their sister with a wide range of feelings, from anger, to grief, to frustration. Left feel helpless or even hopeless.
Intensified guilt is another likely emotion in children concerning a sibling’s death. Children in particular are likely to feel guilty because they don’t understand or comprehend the reasons for death. They may feel adrift and lonely. They may give up, not enjoy life or, in extreme cases, feel they want to join the sibling and think about their own death. As in Corban’s case. He often remarks that he too “Wishes he was dead” or says that he just wants to “go to The Heaven’s”. He may say this in times that he is feeling emotional, or just missing Myesha. Or in times of frustration when Chloe would get onto him he would yell back at her, ”I wish Myesha was here right now because she wouldn’t let you yell at me like this!” Not only is he now feeling lost in his own emotions and grief, but he has struck a painful chord with Chloe. These are the times that as a parent, I find difficult to manage. To find the right words to say to make him understand that even though I know he’s hurting, it’s not fair to take that hurt out on others with his words.
Sibling grief is easily misunderstood. They have now lost a part of their past and their future as it should have been with Myesha and now there’s a hole there. An emptiness that will never again be filled. It was a relationship like no other and the death of a sibling during childhood leaves the surviving siblings lives irrevocably changed. The change is immediate, but the effects remain throughout a lifetime. Death has now become more of a reality and an everyday part of life. The surviving siblings now have been forced to realize that if it could strike once, it could strike again and begin to worry about losing other siblings or family members. They become more attached to their immediate family, start telling them they love them more often, and appreciate them more. As in Corban’s case, one night while we were lying in bed he told me he wanted “a new mommy”. My feelings were instantly hurt and I asked him, “Do you now think I’m a good enough Mommy?” His reply, “You’re a great Mommy. But if you die too I will need another Mommy to take care of me.”
Siblings are an intricate part of each other’s lives. There is no other relationship like the sibling connection. From shared secrets, competing with each other, arguing, fighting, teasing each other, but also defending each other. Siblings feel the joy of their successes and the pain of their struggles and loss. All of those moments of giggling that was once shared together are nothing but treasured memories. You will never know how much your sibling means to you until they’re gone. Mommy loves you Myesha Reed! FIM <3 F

Forever In My Heart Friday. FIMHF. Week 34.. Losing a child is definitely the “worst loss”, but losing a sibling has a special grief all its own. I grew up as an only child. It was a totally different environment then what I was prepared to experience when I had children of my own. But I knew from the moment I had Myesha, that I did not want her to be an only child. I was often envious of my friends and cousins who had a sibling because they were never really alone. I’ll never forget the day Chloe was born. Myesha was so excited at the thought of having a baby sister. She made a name tag to wear that said “Dr. Reed”. (Yes, I still have it) She stood by my side thought the labor process at the young age of 5 and kept telling me to “breath” as each contraction came. She was only made to leave the room for a short time as her sister arrived and from that moment on both of their lives were forever changed. Sisters for Life.

A Sibling relationship is the one relationship that can truly last an entire lifetime. They help make us who we are. Their death affects us in ways you could never imagine. Our siblings are our confidants, playmates, supporters, sources of frustration; sources from which we learn to navigate confrontation, anger, and even repair relationships. You cannot possibly realize how much influence your sibling has on your day-to-day life or how many small things you love about your sibling until they are no longer in your life. Siblings define our past, are key in our “evolution” of our identity, and they know all of the intricacies of our families. We learn how to navigate emotions and interact with others and the world partly through our sibling relationships. Our siblings saw us in the best of times and in the worst.. In an instant your world changed when your brother or sister died. In an instant, your entire family changed forever. The world as we know it seems to stop, and the crumbling inside our hearts can feel paralyzing.

Reliving aspects of the person’s death or having intrusive thoughts, for example, experiencing nightmares about the death, not being able to stop thinking about how the person died, imagining how much the person suffered, or imagining rescuing the person and reversing the outcome. The death of someone special can be very difficult and sad for a child or teen, but when it is a sibling who dies, the family faces a unique set of challenges The child takes on a different role within the family and the world as a sibling survivor. The most common answers were not being able to say goodbye, taking them for granted and assuming they’d always be here, not saying how much they loved their brother/sister, not spending more time with them, fighting too much, not being able to do something to prevent the death, We may also feel guilty about conflicts with our deceased loved one; things we said or did that, now, we wish we could take back.

They are the forgotten grievers. Not many people realize just how hard it is to lose a sibling. Siblings often have very complicated relationships. No one who hasn’t experienced it can understand how it changes your life and how it really affects you. Everyone’s grief is different and as unique as each one of us and our relationship with our sibling, and yet having lost a sibling connects us in a way no one who hasn’t been there could ever understand

Forever In My Heart Friday. FIMHF. Week 33. As I sat at my son’s music concert last night I was washed over with a whole new sense of emotions. Mostly frustration, fear and anger. Yes anger!! I realized it at the point I wanted to lash out at total strangers that my perspectives in life have truly changed. As I was recording Corban singing on stage there were 2 little girls, probably ages 3 and 4, and their parents sitting behind me. The girls were so obnoxious and loud that it made it hard to focus. Hard to even hear the children on stage perform. I know that when I go back and watch the recordings I will be able to hear them loud and clear in the background and it just pisses me off!! It was at that point that I wanted to turn to the parents and say, “Listen, if you can’t keep your children under control them please take them out. Because I’m trying to record my son performing and God forbid he dies like his sister, this will be a part of the only memories I will have of him and you’re children are ruining it!!!” Yes, it took everything in me to not say this!! I could feel my blood pressure rising through each and every song….

To lose a child is to lose a part of life that can never be replaced. Basically, you’re a total mess. There is no “fairy tale” ending. Some days the only word we can use to describe ourselves is “lost.” The void is forever there. Feelings of disconnect, loneliness and empty inside. Burning a hole in your soul. A hole that will never be filled for as long as you live. All too often it takes great courage just to get out of bed and face life head-on because some days the reality of her being gone is just too much. Our world has been shattered. It hurts too much. Constantly lost in thoughts of how life used to be, and how it should be with her alive and you are left feeling helpless. Not knowing how to find hope in your life on some days. You are sad most of the time, even though you don’t show it. A mask that is worn very well now. No one else can bear the burden to an identity now gone. Shattered in knowing that the labor of your deepest love, your most sacred creation has now disappeared. Going through life broken in so many different ways and it breaks you just a little bit more to see others moving on.

Nothing makes sense at all anymore. There are no words, only tears. Your thoughts are never far from your mind. Never forgetting the adventures you had together, the laughter, the memories, the love, and the grandiosity that your child made in your life and who you are now. They live forever in your broken heart. A heart that doesn’t heal or seal back up. And although there is hope, it is not the hope you want. Because when you experience true grief, the end result is grief will never be able to sneak up on you again. Why? Because it forever remains at your doorstep. Letting go of who you thought you were in order to make any sense out of the meaningless tragedy of death. But grief also keeps your child’s love alive in you. It extends the meaning of her life into the world in the most powerful and meaningful ways now. So with that, your child’s death will guide you for the rest of your life. But what a privilege to feel so deeply.

FIM heart emoticon F Mommy loves you Myesha! FIM heart emoticon F Mommy loves you Myesha!

Forever In My Heart Friday. FIMHF. Week 30. So I originally had other plans for this week’s blog but then last night happened and my whole thought process changed this morning.

She was not home yet, it was getting late. Myesha was not answering her phone and I could not GPS it because the phone must have been shut off.  But she never shuts off her phone?  Where could she be?  Who was this guy she was meeting for the first time?  I get on her computer to  quickly find out that she actually met him on some teen chat page/dating site.  I am livid.  She had been on this site before and I made her deactivate the account in fear that she would end of meeting some weirdo or pedophile. But her inbox was full of messages. UGH!  Which guy was it??  Where could she have gone with him??  I’m angry.  I’m worried.  I’m scared.  I pull her phone log and try to research the numbers that she has been constantly texting and talking to over the last couple days.  Sorting out which ones where friends and numbers I knew, and which ones looked unfamiliar.  It wasn’t hard to find the information I needed.  It was now getting dark. I’m freaking out. I call the police.  Suddenly my house is filled with detectives and police officers gathering as much information as possible to her disappearance.  But we now had a phone number to go off of.  That phone number gave a name.  That name gave us photo identification from the inbox conversation on the computer.  The search was on and all I could do was sit here anxiously waiting for any news as to her location.  The police officers and detectives assured me that they would find her and because it was still so fresh, that they would bring her back to me safely.  I waited.  I prayed.  I cried.  Then just a few short hours later a knock at the door and the detective was standing there.  He said they found her.  Oh the since of relief I had.  He came inside and I immediately asked where she was and when I could see her.  He looked at me with this blank look and I could see the distress in his face.  He no longer could look me in the eye.  He shifted his head towards the floor.  “She’s gone.  I’m sorry Ms. Wiley.  We did everything we could to find her in time, but she is dead. We found her body in a car on the side of the highway.”  No!!! NO!!! NO!!!

My alarm goes off at 4:15am and it jolts me out of my sleep this morning. SNOOZE!! SNOOZE!! I’m slapping the buttons as fast as possible to stop the noise.  I have to go back.  I have to go back and get her.  They had the wrong girl.  My daughter was not dead! Damn this alarm clock!  I close my eyes and go back. Back to get her.  No sooner I’m there the alarm pulls me back in to reality again.  I laid in bed this morning with tears streaming down my eyes.  She’s gone.  Myesha, my daughter, is really gone. Although my rational mind knows she has died, the unconscious, the emotions, must recreate the loss repeatedly. References to fate and time are plentiful.

Adjusting to life without my child has been a long and difficult process, and I often struggle to make sense her death. The grieving process includes dealing with so many issues and emotions that I am not confined to grieve in just my waking hours. Indeed, being nothing more than emotionally wounded. I realize these dreams, these images, seem to reflect not only my concerns for her, but also my own suffering over this loss, my own damaged vitality level, and impaired life force.

I remember right after she died I could not sleep.  I was scared to fall asleep.  I would not allow myself to be in a dark room, so I kept my lamp on all night. I would try to force myself to stay awake until my body just collapsed from exhaustion. If you think about it, sleep is the primary way in which we release control. When you experience a life loss, you feel a great loss of control. At a subconscious level, I can say that I didn’t want to lose any more control by sleeping. I didn’t want any of this to be real. I was emotionally exhausted from falling asleep and waking in the same nightmare of a life that was so cruelly placed before me.

When I would sleep, my perceptions of reality were no longer in my conscience control. I would replay her death over and over and over again each and every night.  Not a memory forgot.  Every detail just as vivid as it was in life. The sound of the machine’s flat lining.  The doctor’s words “Potentially Fatal” echoed relentlessly.  That’s when the dream is nothing short of a nightmare, and all you want to do is wake up and make it all go away.  Some days I would wake up and fly out of my bed and run down the hall looking for her the bedrooms.  I would call her phone to see if she answered if I could not find her.  Then it would hit me…Myesha is dead and she was never coming back. I would collapse into my pillow, squeezing it tight, filling it with a plethora of tears.

I eventually hung her class ring on the gold cross necklace that my uncle gave me at my high school graduation, on the lampshade of my lamp on my nightstand. As crazy as it sounded, if I woke from my dreams, it would remind me that I was not stuck in some vortex.  My life was very real indeed.  Instead of running to look for her in the house, I would stare at the lampshade and that class ring.  I would instantly break down.  Crying so hard that I felt my chest would cave in if I couldn’t catch my breath. Throat tight.  Body shaking. Just ugly crying.

Then it finally happened one night, I found her! There she was in my dream, but it was such a short encounter I couldn’t remember any of the details when I woke up the next morning.  I was mad at myself.  Mad that when I woke up in the middle of the night, that I didn’t write down what happened so I wouldn’t forget.  Regret.

But then 1 week later she came back. Myesha came back to see me again. This time even more vivid than last. She looked so beautiful.  I could see her so clearly as if she was standing right in front of me in real life.  Her voice was her own.  Her smile was infectious.  She spoke to me in such a casual manner as if nothing had ever happened.  There she was just standing in my bedroom.  “Hey Momma!!!” she said.  I was speechless.  I began to cry.  She said, “Momma don’t be sad.  I’m okay.  I’m with Dad now and everything is okay.  So please don’t be sad and cry anymore.  I am always with you.” Before I had a chance to respond she lifted up the side of her shirt and with the enthusiasm of a child on Christmas morning she showed me her new tattoo that she got in Heaven.  It wrapped around her rib cage and down her side.  It was green ivy and vines. While it was incredibly beautiful, it was not something I would expect her to get a tattoo of.  “Why that?” I asked.  Her response, “Because I thought it was cool!”  Yep that was Myesha.  Impulsive and without fear or recourse.  I laughed and shock my head.  And before I had a chance to say anything else, she turned and looked up towards the ceiling, then quickly back at me.  “Momma, I have to go back now.  But I want you to know how much I love you!” And just like that she was gone.

I woke up instantly and looked over to the mirror where she was just standing. She was not there.  I Iooked up at the lamp shade.  Neckless still there.  Reality confirmed.  But she really was there.  I felt her.  I saw her.  It was all so clear.  I truly believe she came back to tell me that she was indeed okay.  To tell me one last time that she loved me, and of course to show off yet another tattoo that she had done without my knowledge or permission. Lol.

This dream was my gift. I try my best to remind myself that still seeing her in my dreams is a beautiful thing. I’d rather have these moments where I’m keeping her memory alive, because in those moments I feel so appreciative that I was HER mother, and she was MY daughter.

I guess you could say our dreams help heal our grief. Dreaming is as real as waking life to our minds and hearts, experiences like this allow for many possibilities of completing the “unfinished business” that comes with loss. The dreams allow us to acknowledge our loss at the beginning of the day, and remind us that our love is still very much alive. They bring all these struggling emotions into balance. Even the painful ones teach us where we are at the moment. They help us to accept our loss. They light our path toward a new life. Let them sit with you; let them show you the way to your heart and your grief. Sometimes the way in is the way out. FIM <3 F. Mommy loves you Myesha!