Friday, November 16, 2012

I wonder when I'm going to break...

I never knew that grief can make you feel kinda crazy.  One week I'm depressed.  The next week I'm angry.  Another week I'm detached...
This week?  This week I feel delusional.  I realized halfway through this week that I think I have subconsciously stepped into a different mindset.  I feel like I am living a fake in this new house, taking care of just Ivy, keeping the house clean and tidy, going about little errands and I'm playing "house".  Instead of avoiding pictures and videos, obviously, you can tell I've been pouring through them.  Obsessively watching many each day.  Without conscious intention, I've found that I am trying to keep her alive, in a way...with this delusional mindset that, perhaps, she is just gone, away on a trip.  And, I am in waiting.  And, as I wait, I play house with Ivy.  Still, I don't cry...because I function best by staying detached from the truth.  I can't go there.  I have learned, now, how to control my mind for the most part...meaning, that I can almost stop the icky thoughts from finishing through.  I will stop my head from going there and force myself to think about something else...the grocery list, what I'm doing tomorrow, a new blog post...etc.  
Is this bad?  Is this good?  Hell, I don't know...but I'm functioning.  I get out of bed.  I take care of my baby Girl.  I shower and dress and even do my hair.  I keep the house clean.  I am even starting to cook again.  
But, I wonder when I'm going to break.

(age 2 1/2 ~ nursing in an apple orchard...HEAVEN.)

(right before 3rd Birthday - giving me birthday kisses)

(this doesn't even look like her...but she is still stunning with leftover lipstick from mama's kisses)

(that's my silly girl)

(last fall, age 3 1/2, picking' punkins)

(this last summer, age 4)


  1. she is perfection....nursing in an apple sweet.

    1. she IS perfection. i am still speechless over how much perfection she truly was.

  2. I know that you don't know me, but I am a friend of your Moms and she told me about your blog. You and your daughter are so beautiful! My heart is breaking for you because I know the pain you are feeling personally. I lost my son in 2003 to a brain tumor and have been changed for life. I wished I would have journaled through the grief as you are doing instead of just trying to hold it in and so called "keep it together". Your a beautiful writer, photographer and most of all mother, and I look forward to reading more of your story.

    1. Joelle ~ Thank you so much for taking the time to write to me. It breaks my heart to hear of another loss of a child. It is just not fair.
      Thank you for your encouragement and sweet words. I look forward to you keeping in touch.

  3. My precious daughter. You are not crazy. You are grieving. Tom read your post and said that it all sounds common to this difficult journey…all part of grappling through this unknown territory. Frustrating, empty, lonely, confusing, robotic. How saddened my heart is.

    I savor watching the videos, revisiting all that once was, as if it still is – the videos and pictures are a way for me to visit my Vienne here and now. How often I still feel her presence, indeed with a sure confidence that we will see one another again soon. It’s this feeling like “she’s just right over there in that other room…we’ll be going in there to be with her soon”. We WILL be joining her - I have full confidence in that. While the ache of missing her here on this earthly plane is unbearable and all the questions in this world will not, maddeningly, gain me any understanding as to the reasoning for her early departure - that knowledge of our reunion helps me to look forward, at peace with knowing she is getting to enjoy “the real deal” just a bit before us. I have to train my thoughts in this manner more and more so as not to lose my sanity through utter sadness and heartbreak. I have found I cannot continue to get lost in wrongly thinking, with utter despair, that this is the end of our story with Vienne, the end of our life with her. It is not. Yes, it is the end of what we have known together here in this life and that is so difficult to endure, it is. The physical pain of missing her is so intense. But we will be together again, and it will come sooner than we realize. The waiting is hard, though the hope is sure.

    “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully….” I Corinthians 13:12

    “So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” II Corinthians 4:18

    I love you, my daughter. My prayers are fervent.

    1. My prayers are fervent too. You are never far from my heart, my mind, my prayers. Julie - you and Jenny are beautiful writers. Thank you for letting us join you on this journey of grief. I can't wait to meet Vienne again.