Several Very Long Days

Had I not been talking to Mamy yesterday, I'm not sure when, or if, I would have even realized. Today, Lauren has been gone one month. One month...? How is that even possible? There is so little that has happened over the last 31 days that makes any sense at all. But being able to define the time she has been gone with our calendar, it just doesn't seem right. I don't go more than a week, 10 days at most, without talking to her. The fact that her physical being has been absent from my life for one month now is near incomprehensible.

David returned from Europe yesterday. I was certainly glad to have him back. I had not even been able to talk to him on Lauren's birthday -- that was tough. I'm just glad I have him here today.

Lauren's mom has been sending pictures of Lauren that she found in her phone, computer, etc. I received one just this morning and it's posted below. ...Today may be harder than I anticipated. Maybe it's because I started thinking about it last night -- or because I've chosen to post during the day rather than later this evening. I don't know...

Last Monday, Lauren's birthday, I talked to Sheila for some time. She had been advised by other well-meaning parents who'd lost children that the days and weeks leading up to the birthday were actually much harder than the day itself. They were all wrong, she said. Yes, the previous days had been hard, but the day of Lauren's birthday was miserable. For me, Sunday the 9th had been my worst post-funeral day. I was completely lost. I couldn't keep it together. It wasn't just thinking about Lauren that upset me, either. My body had slipped, it seemed, into a much deeper sadness that consumed me. There was nothing I could do. Eating dinner with my roommate, I cried. In the car on the way to the mall, I cried. Dressing for church, I cried. I was actually thankful I had someone with me that day. I'm not sure how I would have managed the kids otherwise.

Losing Lauren has been, by far, the most difficult single event I've lived through. I lost my father, which was hard. I lost my grandmother 28 days after my father...that, too, was hard. But this...I feel I've lost an arm or some other highly functional body part. Jamie and I had spoken of this not long after the funeral. We felt as though our right arm (or left, whichever is more important) had been cut off. There was a great deal of pain, shock, we weren't sure how we would continue to function. After some time, the wound would heal and we would learn new ways to get by. But nothing could ever replace the arm...not even some ill-fitting prosthetic we might choose to try later in life, grow weary of, then surely discard to the closet floor. No, nothing could ever replace her and we would be forever left with our own giant scar.

With Sheila's mother, with my father and grandmother, with our loved ones who are ailing -- they are all going through the dying process. They have entered a discernable, distinct phase of life; dying. There are markers and signs all pointing to the inevitable and those signs act as constant reminders to family and friends of what is to come. ...But, Lauren... Lauren was no where near the dying process. In fact, quite the opposite. Spiral notebooks with to-do lists, upcoming dates circled on calendars, both short- and long-term plans made with friends...nothing at all to indicate she could die. Her life was wholly in the process of living. ...and she has now been gone one month.

As with most life-changing events, time has been distorted. The measurements of time never seem accurate when dealing with trauma. I was so surprised yesterday when Mamy said today might be hard. I honestly couldn't figure out why. I knew by the sound of her voice that she was talking about something to do with Lauren...but what? We've had her birthday...and her mother's birthday, and her brother's birthday, and 4th of July -- I'd even gotten through the days she'd already planned to stay with me while David was in Europe. What now? ... It's been a month...? Surely not... Maybe, several very ... long ... days, maybe. But, not a month. I thought to myself, "What is tomorrow's date? That can't be right." It was. A month has passed...not several very long days. 31 days, to be exact...

And, I am still here.

Still breathing, moving...

...living.



I love you, girls.
With love...with hope,

katy

Thinking of you...