A couple of weeks ago, as I performed my morning torture of weighing in on Nintendo wiiâ„¢ previous to ignoring my exercise that I should be doing for the day, but wouldnâ€™t, the scale informed me that it was the 800th day since wii came to our lives.
I remember the day it was given to us the December after Robbie died.
I turned to Jim, in slight amazement, and said
â€œItâ€™s been a little over aÂ year AND 800 days since Robbie died â€¦â€Â
It occurred to me that it had been a while since I knew the Amount Of Days.
I was Well Aware that it was 38 months plus; just a few days short of 39 months,
but I didnâ€™t know, until the Â wiiâ„¢Â told me soÂ that it was 800 days plus about a year.
I didn’t know how many DAYS.
I donâ€™t count the days anymore.
In that first year, I always knew exactly how many days, every day, that she was gone.Â And because I have figured it out
(there are Dateâ€“Duration Calendars on line that make the math so easy:
I know that on her 39 month anniversary, it was 1,186 days since she left the earth plane.Â And ten days later, on the day that we should be celebrating herÂ 32nd birthday, it is 1,196 days.Â But, I had to use the duration calculator to figure it out.Â What I do remember, firmlyÂ ingrainedÂ in my heart, Â is that she lived 10,493 days; or 10,795 days if I count her seemingly-never-ending-10 month-throwing-up-everyday-pregnancy-from-hellÂ (That Iâ€™d-relive in a second to have HER again! Â She loved to tease me about those most uncomfortable-for-me-ten months ~â€œI decided to live in, Mom!Â Whaddyaâ€™ kick me out for!Â It was warm, cozy and safe in there!â€)
Sometimes when I need to provide comfort to myself, I will figure out the percentage of time that she has been gone, compared to how long she was alive in my life.Â On her birthday, March 14, 2012 she will have been gone from the earth plane only a mere 11% of the time that she lived.Â I figure that I am â€œallowedâ€ to be sad and grieve.Â 11% is such a small percentage to â€œget used toâ€ being without her. Â When others try to push me to “get over it” Â (as if it were possible!)Â or “move on”, I just think that if 100% is a place of WHOLE, that it is perfectly OK for me to be at 11% NOW.
But, mostly, I donâ€™t count the days anymore.
That isnâ€™t to say that I have securely â€œfound my footingâ€ again after having life turned upside down, inside out, and shredded to barely recognizable bits.Â I havenâ€™t, quiteâ€¦
BUT there ARE CHANGES.
I have found that I no longer sigh every few minutes, I am starting to sleep better (though not GOOD), I have longer periods of concentration, my memory is a bit better than a year ago, there is less â€fogâ€ and though I am not who-I-used-to-be and may never be again, I do laugh more honestly and feel less deeply sad all of the time.Â The other day, I used the word â€œenjoyâ€ to describe my day, and was shocked, not only to hear the word pass my lips again, but more so, to realize that I MEANT IT. Â It is not the same level of ENJOY that I used to experience, but compared to the deep and often overwhelming sadness that has enveloped me since my daughter’s death, it was a different and more peaceful feeling…and that was a Surprise.
When we were working on our The CompassionateÂ FriendsÂ meeting room activity last month and checking off anything on the list that we had experienced since the death of our loved one, I was amazed to find that though I had felt all but one of the AM I GOING CRAZY experiences, that many were no longer every day occurrences. Â Some of them I remember quite clearly, but they are no longer the emotions that my day is built around. Â It has been getting lighter in my heart…slowly, very, very slowly…but the shadows are less a densely black void and more grey with someÂ translucentÂ light peeking through.
Change has been occurring.Â Living Life has been slowing resurfacing, though if you had asked me a year ago, I not only wouldnâ€™t have thought that it was possible but I wouldnâ€™t have wanted it.Â Â I am still not embracing Life, or Joy, or able to Dance or wear funny shirts and hats (sorry to disappoint you, Daughter-Mine, but your death has broken me and rebuilding is monumental), but I do recognize that I AM GOING ON.Â Life is continuingâ€¦and I am continuing all with it. Â I still resent it, but not as deeply as I did this time last year. Â I still cry, but not every day.Â I still long for my daughter nearly all of the time, but I am able to see beyond my own personal pain long enough to reach out to help, validate and comfort others. Â Among the tears, I can smile and laugh when I tell her stories and look at her pictures.Â I can remember Her Life, before I remember Her Death.
I am no longer the “Perky-Pain-In-the-Patootie” that she sued to tease me about being, especially first thing in the morning, her least favorite time of the day. Â When I wake up each morning, I still canâ€™t look at the clock and sing the time followed by â€œAnd all is well” that had been my morning ritual before my daughter’s death. Â It still isnâ€™t. Â Life is not yet In Balance. Â Life is Not Yet “Well”. Â I still long for her to be the first morning phone call, and I do wake up feeling sad, most every day. Â But I am no longer listening for her ring on my cell phone or waiting for her texts. Â Her absence still hurts, but it no longer shocks.
Life continues to be a jumble.
And not a day goes by that I donâ€™t think about her, longing for her to be HERE.
I may not always like them, but
I Donâ€™t Count The Days anymore.
I guess that I am beginning to endure themâ€¦.
…and maybe even, liveÂ them.â™¥
2003 Robbie and Grandpa's Last Birthday Together
14 March 2012
To My Daughter and My Dad
Today, March 14, is the anniversary of your both of your births.
I want to be sharing birthday cake with you both, not sending you letters to Heaven.
But know, my loved ones, that my life was better for having had you in it, and so much less, my darling daughter, since you have been gone.
I have been watching videos of days past, when death was not the giant cloud it has become.Â I listen to the two of you laughing and living.Â And I miss you both, and Gram, so very, very much.
You will, always, always have my hearts.â™¥