From the perspective of my ten year old:
"The morning daddy left to go to the hospital, I was sleeping. I didn't even know he was that sick. I didn't know he left to go to the hospital. I thought he would come back home that day when I found out. I never got to say goodbye to him and my mind won't let me stop thinking about it. I can't get sleep because I just keep thinking about it."
In recent months, both of the younger kids seemed to be handling their grief with resilience. But he began to show signs that worried me, a couple of weeks ago. Before bed, he began getting anxious and asked if he could sleep with me, which is not the norm for him. He likes having freedom to sprawl out in his own space, typically. Then he began having meltdowns over things that were relatively minute. I mean, sitting-in-the-floor-and-sobbing-deep-sobs-meltdowns. When I cradled him in my arms during one of these episodes, a couple of nights ago, and asked him what was on his mind and if there was anything I could do to make it better, that above statement is what he uttered through his moment of thick, thick grief. My baby is desperate for closure without realizing it's what he needs. And I am desperate to fix his hurt. But I can't. He and I, along with his siblings, are in this phase of survival mode together. I held my ten year old boy in my arms, as we laid in my bed. He sobbed as I prayed out loud for him...for all of us. He literally cried until he exhausted himself to sleep. And once he was finally sound asleep, I wiped his cheeks dry before tucking him in. Then I locked myself in my bathroom where I sat myself down on the floor and had a silent little meltdown of my own.
My current state is a cornucopia of emotions, that I'm wearing heavily on my shoulders, slap full of feelings of deep love and sadness, frustration, anxiety, and sheer desperation to fix what can't be fixed of my babies hearts.
Last week, I got a slew of email notifications that came in one after another. My phone just kept dinging every few seconds. I thought that odd enough to check what the hub-bub was all about, because I don't generally rush to my phone for an email notification. Each e-mail came from either a teacher or staff administration from schools, in our county, who know and love my babies so much and thought about our family after each reading the exact e-mail themselves. Each one of those awesome ladies forwarded that e-mail to me, along with precious words of their own, reminding me that I am not alone. My heart...I'm so thankful for these women for constantly going above and beyond their job description.
It was from a non-profit organization, called Kate's Club. After reading the e-mail, I knew that God was sending us a life jacket, so I quickly registered to join the parent orientation that was being held the next evening. The orientation was informative and solidified, for me, that my children REALLY needed to be a part of this awesome group. The program emotionally supports children who have suffered the loss of a parent or sibling through group therapy and activities, mainly. However, they also have groups for our young adult children, as well as for surviving spouses like myself. After registering our family into the program, I had to have a lengthy interview with the coordinator who asked many questions, in order to create an idea of how best to accommodate them...all of us really. She was precious and assured me that our family was in good hands before sending me the group schedule for this month and next. While I am nervous about how my younger children are going to respond to this, I also have a sense of relief at knowing that professionals are coming to my aid in the form of a life line thrown straight from Heaven.
So, for now, I am sharing my bed with one precious boy who moves around, in his sleep, a whole heck of a lot. I've only been hit in the face once, thus far! I'm okay! ha.
Y'all say a prayer for us if you feel so inclined. I sure would appreciate it.
Relishing in His goodness...
Christy
