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Never Fogotten

April 2nd 2012 was hit by a motorcycle and died 21 days later @ the age of 27. Her little frame body could take no more infections,internal injuries. At first we were informed that she would have moderate to servre brain damage. We were ready to deal with that even talked about how we would need things remodeled. Then days later we were informed that due to blood clotts her brain was died in most places. Know what your child had stated "If ever""" It does not make the pain of actions any less painful. She had always told me I am not afraid to die I just don't want to be forgotten. This will never happen. I feel I am going crazy but all the advice I recieve are from those who havent loss a child and I am thankful they cant understand this depth of pain I never knew existed
Marty1027 Marty1027 46-50, F 3 Responses Sep 10, 2012

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We lost our twin girls ten years ago last July. I can tell you that I thought I was going crazy at first from all the strange thoughts that wormed their way into my head. I even remember the almost uncontrollable urge to start clawing at the dirt with my bare hands to dig them out of their freshly filled-in graves. I want you to know that whatever thoughts or feelings you are experiencing are NORMAL and you are not losing it.

What really helped me to realize this was joining support groups for grieving parents. I joined an online group and one that met in a church once a month. Talking to others and hearing their experiences was incredibly helpful--mainly because our culture has such a twisted up, uncompassionate and unrealistic expectation of people who are grieving. The phrases "move on", "getting on with your life", and "closure" have always made me grit my teeth in frustration. Our culture is afraid of death and it makes us uncomfortable (that is why there haven't been any replies to your post- it makes people uncomfortable to talk about it). So we want grieving people to just get over it and act "normal" again.

Another thing I want to stress is that there will be no "getting back to normal". You have a new normal now and it is the one that you will learn to navigate. I know for a long time I felt like I was an alien visiting another planet because there were so few people who could even relate to my experience. They were busy planning high school graduation parties, college visits, etc. and complaining about their kids. All the while I'm carrying around this ache and jealousy inside my heart. When the girls' friends started getting married and having babies was the worst. I would get invitations and always declined but sent gifts.

And people who would complain bitterly about their children just enraged me. On the girls' birthday, a year and half after their deaths, I was wandering aimlessly in a department store, trying to deal with the numbness when I saw the cutest little girl. Her antics were making me smile and it felt good to smile. She wasn't being bad, just a normal little girl of about two. I told the mother that her daughter was adorable. She smirked and said, "That's because she's not yours!". I literally stood with my mouth open, stunned, unable to form a reply. After recovering from the shock, The rage set in and I set out to track that stupid, ungrateful woman down and tell her she didn't deserve her beautiful daughter. I searched the entire store but never found her. Probably a very good thing!

Most of those intense, overwhleming emotions have passed to be replaced with a gentle sorrow. I still cry sometimes but not for as long as I did for the first several years. I miss each girl at different times and it will come on suddenly and I will burst into tears. I think it will always be that way. How could it not? They hold such special places in my heart and those holes will never be filled by anyone or anything else. I have seen an elderly man whose son had been gone for 25 years burst into tears over it. So don't let Dr. Phil or any other quack wanna-be grief counselor tell you that you need to "move on". If someone tells you that, look them in the eye and ask them, "What does that mean, exactly?"

If we could just go on and act as if our deceased loved ones never existed, what does that say about the depth of our love for them? That would be a very shallow kind of love, I think!

I am here to tell you it will be tough, and sometimes you might feel as if it will never get better. Then there will come the day when you laugh for the first time since you lost her. You might feel both good and guilty at the same time, but it's okay. Humans NEED to laugh. It is a stress release and it releases endorphins which we need for mental health and to heal. You will be healing.

There was also the problem of how to tell people which we still deal with today and will deal with for the rest of our lives. Whenever you meet someone for the first time there are the inevitable questions about children. I would panic, knowing the question was coming. Should I say I have six children and then possibly risk more in depth questions leading to the fact that two are deceased, or should I say we have four, and have to deal with the feelings that I'd betrayed my girls? It wasn't that I didn't want to talk about my girls -- quite the contrary. There were only a couple of people willing to talk about my girls openly with me and without discomfort so I was very tired of feeling as if the subject of them was taboo. It was that I didn't want to make my new acquaintance uncomfortable. This is also an issue you will have to decide how you want to handle. I finally decided that I couldn't worry about someone else's momentary discomfort if it meant the agonizing feeling of betraying my lovely girls. So I always include them in the count and if the conversation progresses to the point where I have to reveal their deaths, I do so matter-of-factly and politely accept their expressions of sympathy.

There is so much more I could write, but I'm sick with a cold and have a killer headache. I'm in bed with my tissues, hot toddy and iPad browsing the message boards which is something I never do. When I came across your post I just had to reply. I wanted to encourage you and offer some hope. The sun really will shine again someday. I promise.

I lost my son last year. I don't always know what to say, but I am sorry for the loss of your daughter. 4 months is still so raw.

I personally do not understand how eleven people could ever read this and not post a reply. it goes over my head sometimes, I've read this over and over now but all I can offer you is never forget her beautiful sparkling eyes when she was happy,michevious, her soft voice when she was upset, shy, hiding something, the way she'd maybe hug you randomly. I don't know your daughter and I'm sorry I never will but I bet you she was beautiful as anything, and you loved her with your whole entire damn heart.



I'm not a parent and I'm not sure I'll ever be I'm a mere eighteen year old female who has lost before and I understand that desperation inside, the way your chest feels heavy, how your throat lumps up and your eyes water on those nights you can't sleep. on those little sighs that you might let out when you feel defeated. How empty the house seems, how lifeless, how colorless.



But I'm sure she wouldn't want you to be sad right now, I mean yes it's very. very. very difficult, very hurting, very wrong, wrong it just all feels so surreal and very wrong, but If I was her I'd want you to be living life, i'd want you to get through the days like you are until hope shows it's face again, until you can manage a smile. I know that pain would never go away but it might ease with time until you're maybe watching old family videos, laughing maybe crying a little at how she used to be when she was a child.



My heart goes out to you and I hope you don't think I'm an arrogant female thinking she knows it all when she's only young herself, I hope I haven't offended you and if you should ever need to talk ma'am. I'll be here. feel free, or not to take me up on that offer no need to feel obligated, I know how it feels to be completely alone sometimes, like nobody understands and you're feeling suffocated with all those feelings and thoughts.



- Eyeri.