Retreating Into Myself

There are some days when you can just tell that you should have stayed in bed.  Today has been one of those days.  I got up and got the girls off to school, but by the time I got home, the panic/anxiety started to set in.  This usually leads to my extreme quietness and overall unhappy demeanor.  No one has done anything to me.  I'm not angry at anyone.  I'm just off.  Just down.

We started attending a new church last week and we have been working our way into the different activities that are available to us.  Sunday, both girls were able to attend their respective 'classes' during the worship service.  Grace came out saying, "The flood was really instantaneous?  People died just like that?"  Yes.  The flood happened.  The only one that was prepared was Noah and his family.  That was an interesting conversation.

On Wednesday, we went to church again.  The girls went their separate ways.  Grace was off to youth and Rae got to participate in a girls only class.  Grace came out raving about her time.  They played the music obnoxiously really loud and it made her stomach flutter...which was AWESOME.  She loved it!

Rae wrote something on her paper that she'd worked on.  I looked at it and she said, "You'll probably not understand what it says."  I read it out loud and she said, "No."  She then proceeded to say, "God can save people.  He could have saved Cora, but He didn't."  I tried to explain to her that God needed her in heaven more than we needed her here on earth. "No mom.  He could have saved her.  But, he didn't."  Oh sob.  Oh child...if only it were that simple.  And if only I could help you understand it.

She is so black and white.  Cut and dry. 

Since we moved here, she has really begun to miss her sister.  It is very evident.  She is missing her buddy.  There is a whole new learning curve for her.

So...I'm left trying to figure out how to minister to my girls' hearts.  I often think they're lost on this journey, much like I am. 

It's a roller coaster and I can only hope that people can understand my quietness...my retreating...because I can't survive without it.

Grief

You know, this grief thing is hard work.  And I mean...HARD...WORK.  It's freakin' exhausting.  I'm in a constant roller coaster of emotions.  Just when I think I have it figured out...WHAM!  By-the-way...I hate loathe being on the roller coaster.

The worst part now, after 6 months, is realizing that my 11-year old is experiencing this same grief, but is so ill prepared on how to handle it.  She doesn't understand her anger.  She is unable to express her sorrow.  What makes things even more difficult?  She understands more than most kids her age.  The things that used to annoy her about her sister...she misses with every fiber of her being.  The mornings that she'd wake up and have Cora snuggled up against her in her bed.  Her sneakiness.  Yeah...all of that.

What can I do, but grieve with her?  We talk about Cora together.  I've told her that anger is perfectly normal.  She's reading through a book that was given to me that I've read mostly through.  I talked to her about the different stages of grief and how sometimes we're a combination of all of them...all at the same time.

My poor child feels guilty.  She feels guilty because I was with her at PCH instead of being home with Cora.  She thinks that if I had been home with Cora, she might not be gone.  She doesn't understand why it had to be Cora.  She's mad because she'll continue to have a birthday, but her sister won't.  She doesn't know what she wants for Christmas because she really just doesn't want anything.

My greatest challenge amongst this grief?  Reassuring my children that they are loved, that they are safe, and that I will do everything within my abilities to keep them healthy and happy.  I don't brush things off as easily as I used to...not that I really brushed things off per se, but I didn't rush to the doctor.  Now, I tend to be a bit gun shy.  And honestly, the doctor's need to understand that.

As I have said about myself, I will say it again for the sake of my children...we still need understanding, we need friends who will not ask questions, who will let us talk about our Cora, who will love us no matter what, and who can walk through this painful part of our lives.  It's messy and it's hard, but we'll know who we can count on most.

For those that have stuck around and waded through the mire with us...there are no words.  Just know that we are so grateful that you are here.