As an FYI, my family still laughs. As a matter of fact my kids laugh often. Our baby Lorelei, can now almost repeat words when you say them. That's fun, but it's even more fun when you translate what she's saying into something totally different and inappropriate.
I am a big Eckhart Tolle fan - but somehow I've lost the ability to live in the now. I have a tattoo on my belly that covers my c-section scar that says "Living in the Now". And even with that I forget that right now is all we ever really have. Make plans, go ahead, but you just don't really know if you'll be able to do any of them.
I gotta say I thought I could write an upbeat blog about our sometimes laughter. Honestly, I just can't. We may each get moments of peace, but I believe our saddness at this time never lifts.
A friend sent a story to me. A beautiful story named How My Husband Taught me To Enjoy Every Sandwich.
I read it and I am so grateful that Lee was able to face death in the face with a grin. It was inspiring to read. Unfortunately, my family is not living this same journey. I am not insinuating that this isn't how their journey happened, but I dare suggest it is not how "most" journey's happen.
The article speaks about Elizabeth Kubler-Ross' five stages of grief: Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and then acceptance. I'm in the What The Fuck Stage, which I didn't notice. I believe my children are in the anger and bargaining phase.
After re-reading the article for the third time I notice that there is no mention of children. Not sure that there are no children but they didn't mention, so I assume there's none. I believe adding the dimension of leaving young children takes dying to a different level.
I've often thought how would I feel if it were just Eric and me? Quite frankly, I think I'd be less devestated. I would still be devestated, please don't misinterpret, but having "young children" in the mix changes everything. A large part of my burden is the burden of being a mother of twins that are 9 and a baby that isn't yet two, and how to navigate their lives. It's not a dead beat dad we can be pissed off at or a part time useless father. It is a father that no matter what happens will not hold their hand during times when they're older when they need a Daddy's touch and not just a Mommy's.
So, I started to try to write a Happy Harriet blog and it turned right back around. Those were not my true feelings. Although, we do share laughter, it's so rare at this point. I want to be more zen and live in the now and focus on today. OR I want to go into the street and throw shit around and spit and kick and scream and break everything. Yeah, I wanna do the latter.
The five phases of grief are LONGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG. Necessary says the therapist but LONGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG.