More Raw Blogging...
Who knows how my thoughts can take me from A to B. But, somehow connected thoughts took me from today at the stoplight off 1-35 onto Antioch Road to August 2004. I would like to think my thought journey was not by accident but because my brain was one step ahead... dragging me onto the right path for healing; a path I have thus far been unwilling to step foot on!
First, I was thinking about the lady that I emailed back and fourth with after Audrey was diagnosed, she was my Healing Angel. You wouldn't think that I would have been in need of such a person. If you have spent any time traveling by my side you would know that I have been blessed out of proportion; my support system is amazing!
The first day in the hospital we wheeled my half asleep very sick 10 year old, IV in tow, into a meeting room. When Lauren, the lady who was going to teach us about Audrey's new life, came in to join us, it was standing room only. She waded herself through the parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins to find her seat. She smiled; she was very pleased with the support. And Lauren answered every question from every player in the room.
My parents and sisters came over daily for the first several weeks after we came home. Lisa helped me make a shopping list and pick out recipes. She even went with me and helped me turn over every possible snack item in HyVee to read the carbs and find some that would fit into the "bootcamp" regiment for food we'd been assigned. Lara took every crazy call for information and support. Taught me how to draw insulin, get bubbles out of the needles, and give shots. My Mom and Dad did a lot of hugging, listening and bringing fun stuff to make it all easier. And when I wanted to get too radical and crazy with things, the closest one of them to me at the moment, would gently nudged me back into reality.
That is just to mention my family. Doesn't even touch the edge of our amazing friends.
Still I cried. I cried every night. I cried after every fight with Audrey. I remember the day that she decided that she was not going to take anymore shots. After we had words, I secretly went into the other room and gave myself a saline shot. OUCH! I went back into the room she was in and just held her. Okay, I told her, no more shots until your ready. Then I found a quiet spot and cried some more.
Everyday there were battles to face; some we won, most we lost. Everyday ended the same ... me laying in bed crying. I had fears and guilt I couldn't share with my family. Not because they didn't care or wouldn't listen but because it just wasn't in their home.
Then my friend, Deb, hooked me up with my Healing Angel. It was only through email that I ever even spoke to her. To her I bared it all. When she said she understood, I felt calmer . Her daughter had been a Type one diabetic for many years. Often she would write to me of hope and for the first time I was starting to believe it! Her daughter was not only healthy and thriving she was living Audrey's dream of playing college soccer!
Within several months I out grew the daily tears and fears and then we just stopped touching base with each other. She probably has no idea what she gave me.
My thoughts had lead me to that snidbit of time because I desperately want my Aunt to talk to Someone who has been in her "home". Someone who when they say they understand her loss, it's coming from a place of raw truth, they understand because they have walked it. Someone who when they say she will continue to hurt but move forward they know it because they too have lost their son and did move forward. I want her to let in her Healing Angel that is knocking on her "home" door.
Then my thoughts continued, taking me to a new place in my own grief. (I am at best a reluctant travel companion.)
I really have no problem story telling, looking at pictures or watching the video of Michael. I feel close to him in those minutes. Though I don't like to admit it it also allows me the fantasy that maybe he is just at work somewhere I can't get to right that minute.
But when I started thinking about how wonderful Audrey's cousins were to her back in '04, instead of thinking of a story about Michael, my body felt a familiar feeling. The one that I always got when I watched him play with or take care of my girls. The feeling of knowing that he truly loved them; would do anything for them. In those minutes I always felt so much pride for who he was and it deepened my love for him.
It was also the feeling of knowing he would always be there for them.
And that food chain of thoughts is how I ended up at the stop light off 1-35 onto Antioch with a tear in my eye... Struggling to think of how to get to this pretend place I have put him in in my head so I can hug him and tell him thanks for being so great to my girls!
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