We were the closest family possible. Our world was turned upside down on 05/03/09 when my best friend, the person I love most next only to our children, my sister Trina was diagnosed with stage IV breast cancer. Her body gave out on her on 01/09/10 but she will ALWAYS be a part of our daily life and will continue to be in my posts. I started my blog to chronicle our daughter's international adoption from Guatemala and have continued to use it as a journal.

What you will find is my family trying to adapt to our new lives that were handed to us.



Sunday, February 07, 2010

1 Down, 15397 To Go

One "celebration" day down without sissy, I figure we've got quite a few more to go. We had our Super Bowl "party" at sissy's house, as usual. It was just like last year's party but with one huge difference and a giant hole missing in all of our lives. Joshua had me print off about four 8X10 pictures of him and sissy together and he has them framed, sprinkled around the house. Mom and I knew what sissy would have said about certain things during the game so we said them to each other. Next to the children, I'm most grateful for mom. I'm clinging to her even more and she to me. We have each other. When sissy and I would panic, thinking of the day that mom would no longer be with us, mom always comforted us by saying "you'll have each other to lean on." That is no longer true so I'm stuck to mom even tighter than before, if that's even possible.

Life is hard.

Very hard.

The only thing that helps is our family. Our smaller, immediate family, specifically two little members of our family. When I have both children, I feel like life can go on. When I don't have Asa, it's a bit harder but Valentina definitely lightens the load, but when I don't have either one of them? Life seems pretty much impossible when I don't have them.

Papa has a lot of friends and family members call him to ask how we are doing. He just gives a generic "we're fine, we're doing fine, no problem" answer. That answer could not be further from the truth. I think he says what he does so that he doesn't have to talk about the horrible truth, we're shitty, we're hurt beyond repair, we're broken and most of all, NOTHING helps. NOTHING.

I've been doing a lot of thinking and a lot of retrospecting (if that's a word and apparently it is since spell check didn't bitch at me for using it). I talked to mom about it today and we both feel the same.

I have peace.

I have no regrets.

There is nothing that I wish I could go back and do differently.

I know that sissy knew exactly how much I love her because she loves me the same way.

So that is something to be thankful for. And looking back, if we had been told on May 3rd, the day she was diagnosed, that she had 8 months to live, I can honestly say that I don't think any of us would have done one thing different. The only thing I think that might have changed is I think sissy would have done her damnedest to make it to Disneyland with Asa. But overall I consider us fortunate because we can go on, difficult as it will be, knowing that we all did our best and we lived life as best as we could and that NONE of us have any regrets.

We have peace.

That is not to say that things don't happen that cause me to completely lose it. Thursday and Friday were both very difficult for me. Thursdays are now hell as the kids stay with Grama for a few hours. Before, us three girls would drop them off and figure after 4 hours Grama needed a break so we tried to not leave them there longer than 4 hours. Now? Now mom and I are constantly checking the clock asking "when can we go get them? Can we go now? Let's go to this store and THEN enough time should have passed that we can go pick them up." Life is just unbelievably hellish when we don't have the kids. We were shopping at one store and I was on the phone with Holly when a song by Coldplay came on. I panicked because I knew I had to get out of the store ASAP if I wanted any chance of having my breakdown in the safety of my own car instead of out in the open. I pretty much hung up on Holly mid sentence, sprinted out of the store and nearly mowed someone down who was standing next to the door. After that mom and I spent about a half hour just driving around, trying to figure out where we were going to have lunch. The whole time we were eating I was on edge, just hoping that the next song wouldn't be on my strict "DO NOT PLAY" playlist.

So yes, life is hell. It's still unbelievable. For eight months we went around asking ourselves "is this real? Is this really happening?" Now we will spend the rest of our lives asking the same questions, only there will be one less person asking along with us.

So there you have it, in a nut tree since a nut shell isn't enough.

It's hard. It's difficult. It's unbelievably horrifying. And nothing helps. Nothing.

I do have a handful of people who are always there for me. Most of them have lost someone very close to them so they have an idea of what I'm going through. Although each situation is different, each person reacts differently but like Stacey always says, "loss is loss, pain is pain."

So that is how we are doing.

5 comments:

wy-not said...

Love that video, Cameo. I can see why those two little kids are your salvation these days. They are like a breath of fresh air! The beautiful thing about God is that He'll be there waiting when you're ready to talk to Him too. My heart breaks for you and your family. I wonder if writing out your pain in your blog is a kind of therapy for you. I hope it is. Continuously sending huge hugs and prayers for peace and healing ....

Sandy

URBAN BLONDE said...

Hard to read your post, but it is oh so honest and true. I thought it interesting that you mention you feel at peace about what transpired and how you wouldn't do it differently, interesting because it shows me how grief's stages are oh so different for everyone. I didn't feel peace about that with my Moma until her birthday 8 months after she died. I do remember feeling numb for a great long time.

It takes a long time to adjust to the new normal and even now 30 yrs after Moma died I still mentally reach for the phone to call her. The great thing is you can always write down your thoughts or speak to Trina wherever the hell you may be at the time.

Never apologize for how you feel, you have your priorities straight, those little kiddos are number 1. I just wish I could envelope you and Beya and Papa and take away some of the rawness of it all.

Hugs
xx

Crystal said...

My dear sweet Cameo~~ my heart literally and physically hurts for you after reading your post. oh Cameo please know I am pray everyday for you and your family.

I want you to know I have been on a mission for you. I knew what I wanted to send you a long time ago but I could not find the right one. Well I finally found it and I am sooo excited!!! I still have to put a few more things in this package but please know I have not forgotton and I have soemthing special for you!

I only wish I could do more. plese know that I am praying and thinking about you ~~~ your courage and strength amazes me~~ you are the best momma to those sweet miracles of yours! I love you Cams I do~~~((((HUGS)))))

Candy said...

Disneyland....Why the heck did I not have the brains to think of that and make plans to meet you all there before Trina Passed...I guess there was really no way to do it with her so sick and getting to the Dr and treatments...Girl...I love ya and still think of you each day.

wy-not said...

I worry about you when you blog, Cameo, and I worry even more when you take a few days off. I hope you're hunkering down with your dearest ones, holding each other close while you try to begin this new and so-sad chapter in your lives. Just wanted you to know that I'm sending cyber hugs always, whether you're blogging or not.

((((((((((hugs)))))))))))

Sandy