Colors As I Go
grief (32) only child (4) Scary (2) Boiled eggs (1) Distrust (1) Don't call me Faye (1) Dying (1) I hate to be called Faye (1) I'm afraid of the dark (1) Middle age woman (1) Pain that reaches the soul.. can't be seen (1) Running (1) Where did my youth go? (1) dying in a beautiful way (1) life is fragile (1) light on my path (1) my son (1)
Thursday, September 6, 2012
Written Tears Poured Through My Pen...
Written Tears Poured Through My Pen...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee
Soon... it'll be time for the special, happy holidays again. You know the ones that bring families together, everyone tries to show family members how much they are really loved... through material things, special foods, special events.
Thanksgiving ... last year our Thanksgiving was really ... bad. Our Christmas was really ... bad. I'm being very truthful here. Tommy... Tommy... Tommy.
We went through alot financially, and grief-wise. It's a .. heck of a combination... you can't know unless ... you experience not having alot of money for everything along... with the loss of your child.
No, you can't imagine how 'both' feels unless you have the 'both'... at the same time. It's not possible... I was like that before Tommy died... I 'thought' I knew .... I'd lost so many people I'd loved.... there's no comparison.
The only way 'you will know'.... is 'when, if you lose your child'. I know... it takes your very breath away to think about it, doesn't it? It takes my breath away, thinking about that statement... I don't want that to happen to anyone... it hurts so... bad.
One person came for alittle while to brighten up our Christmas ... somehow she knew what we were going through. Thank-you, Ms Nancy. I smile as I think about the 'sunshine' that popped up in our life for the time you were here. I think you were worried for me, 'what I might do'... I think Skip worried, too.
I can say this... though I feel such pain in my heart, I would never do anything rash. I have fought hard... to be here, to live. I love life even more now. The time I would have truly died, if it hadn't been for Skip and our Pups... would have been when my child died... when Tommy died.
I was 'the walking dead'... I was 'dead', though I was here. I tell you how it really is... if it disturbs anyone... please don't read. That's why I write... pain and grief fuels my drive to write.... I will never give out of either... it's always 'there'.
If anything I write hurts, disturbs you... you may not want to read... because though I feel happiness now in my life.... the grief, pain is only 'just beneath the surface'.
I'm very aware of it 'every minute', it never goes away. It 'may appear to' ... to others.... they just 'can't see into my mind'. I try to smile, sound happy... for you. Sometimes............ I get really tired of it. I can come to write out the pain... and never upset 'you' when I am around, or see you.
You will think ... 'she is doing so good now'... or some thought similiar. I am taking it 'well' as possible, because I mean to stay positive. I mean not be bitter, old, mean, and ugly from hate, anger... because my son died.
Strange... just for a moment I felt something rear its head in my mind... just for a shocking moment... I did feel such anger, hate, ugliness! It stopped me 'in my tracks'... just now. I sat here to examine it in my mind... this is something I've kept pushed back, told myself that I won't feel.
Oh no... I just can't let that stay in my mind at all. It would definitely destroy the rest of my life, making me grow older, reflect on the outside the 'ugliness' within. I don't want that at all. I am pushing that back... now.
I want to grow older in a more graceful, softer way... there's no denying it'll be in a 'stronger' way... I have such strength now... it's truly 'if you want to know the truth'... a fragile strength. My strength is as strong as the next storm to rush into my life... I'm as strong as the next storm... hopefully to get stronger if needed.
Tommy died May 29, 2010... Thanksgiving and Christmas were a blur because my mind was a blur... I just can't remember unless I go to my desk calendar to read what I wrote.
I was in shock, I was in the dark world. I couldn't come out of it... I didn't want to come out of it. I had quit living, I was only existing. I have a photo of 'back then'... I looked like I 'was peeping out from death', myself.
I have kept desk calendars since I used to work at the hospital many years ago. They are the ones that have 365 days... each page is a day in the month.
My desk calenders survived a house fire... amazing, isn't it? It's strange... I look back at the kind of things that survived that housefire... our filing cabinets that were full of important papers, my desk calendars, and such ...made it through the fire... only the tops of the folders were burnt, charred.
Thank-you, Angie.. for saving them, putting them in new folders, labeling them. My memory 'sees you sitting on the ground working with things to clean, save them'. It was so cold, I know your hands were freezing.
That was another time of such shock... unless you lose everything in a housefire... you can't say 'I know how you feel'. Same thing about losing a child... you can't compare it to losing your mother, brother, sister, grandmother or ... anyone else.
It's not the same kind of grief... this grief is a 'very real part of you, your body' as a mother... this is the one human being that is bonded to you in love... it's forever love.
Why from the very beginning ... a mother is the 'safe place' for the baby to grow and develop... that baby is there 'every second of that mother's life'.
She is the 'safe place' that child runs to when it needs comfort, love, security. That mother will go through 'hell and high water for that child', she will do what it takes to save her child... just as a lioness will for her cubs.
I write down what happens throughout each day. I have years of 'desk calendars' saved... to go back to read on dates I need. I see how my handwriting changed all along... like my moods, my health, all the deaths in my life of people I truly loved with my very heart... then, Tommy.
I looked back when I felt I could to see 'how I actually wrote with my hand'... back then. I could see the weak, scribbly writing just to write about Tommy... my written words were pure grief that came out from my fingers through the tip of my pen. Those words were 'crying'... those words were 'written tears' poured from my pen.
Tommy... Tommy... Tommy. My only son, my only child. I thought I knew pain in my life as I've suffered so much since I can remember... I didn't. I didn't know pain until my son died... 'now', I 'know pain'.
Getting back to the holidays... there's Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's... then, my birthday on Valentine's Day. No matter where Tommy was, he'd either be there... call, if he couldn't. My child would tell me 'Happy Thanksgiving!... Merry Christmas, Mama! ... Happy New Year! ... Happy Birthday, Mama!'
He would always give me a gift... though the gift was most special... it was in no way as special as seeing, hearing my son.... seeing, hearing Tommy.
I sit here ... letting myself feel for a short time ... all of this. See, it's 'been there'... the whole time I write about other things. It won't go away... it still hurts so bad. I feel like just crying forever... of course, I won't.
Can you see me coming now... crying as I take each stumbling step? As I weep my head off, tears soaking the front of my blouse? My nose running as I try to keep it dry? Trying to speak between each sob? Pulling down your happy mood as you see, witness my pain? Ruining your beautiful day?
:))) I'm not like that... my grief, pain... is private in spoken words, actions. You won't even notice it... unless you go across an invisible line and begin asking questions.
Don't worry... I won't let you do that unless I feel there's a need to... to somehow help you. I'm not going to just begin talking about it, begin sobbing... all of those things... that's 'not my way'.
I'm going to go on and smile, be happy to help keep your day beautiful, nice. I don't want to pull you down... life is already enough to do that these days... I know how it feels.
My grief is public in written words here... you have the choice to come here to read 'real feelings' to see, know how they 'really feel'. You can go any moment you don't want to know... don't want to read. I'm not pushing myself, my feelings... thoughts on you.
Also, I don't think I'm the only person in the world to hurt, grieve, to have went through all I have..... but, I am the only person who can tell you 'what I have gone through, how I felt when it happened'.... just as you are the only person to tell 'your story/your colors'. So... I will tell my life story/my colors the way I choose to tell them... these are my colors.
As for any of my family who reads this, and thinks.... 'she thinks she is the only one who suffered as a child'.......... just know this.... I know better, I 'know' you went through hell just as I did as a child, but... 'I can't tell your story'.... you have to.
Just because I tell mine, doesn't mean your suffering is any less. Just know that I do know, I do care... I 'did see you' ..back then. I saw your pain, I saw your eyes, I heard your cries, I listened when you talked to me. Most of all... I loved each and every one of you as a little girl... all of you were in my heart... life tore us all apart.
We each live with our scars, unseen by anyone. If you ever want someone to know... tell me... I'll make sure your words are right here. I can do no more than that. Yes, each and every little face that felt pain as I did as a child... has been in my heart all these years. I know you all... we were like sisters, brothers... we were first cousins. We ... were sister, brother back... then.
How else do you think I remembered you... after not seeing you all these years? That was all I had in my mind to 'put a face to'.... little faces with tears, crying, fear. I don't remember many smiles, then again, I remember some.
I wanted to mention these things... I had reason to do so. I'll get back to the holidays... once more.
Soon, it'll be time for the State Fair in October... Skip and I want to go. Next... it'll be Halloween.... since we don't live in town, we won't be giving out candies... though I miss making bags of candies, treats for Taban. We didn't get to see McKenzie.
Thanksgiving, Christmas.... Skip and I both, want to make them as happy, cheerful as possible. I want us 'to have something to look forward to'... instead of dread.
I can see why holidays are important... it's not necessarily getting the things we want as gifts.... (well, I'm sure alot of people beg to differ :))))).
I see them as hope, something to pull us forward ... something to make us feel excitement, happiness inside. I'm seeing them as times to make as special as possible for us to ... just be happier than we've been since Tommy died.
We don't have any family to celebrate with... that's okay, Skip and the Pups, and I ... have each other. We can do it in our own quiet, special way.... and share turkey, ham with the Pups! And smile as we watch them eat with their 'baby mouths', see their contented, happy faces.
I'll keep smiling, not feel sadness to pull us down. I'll come here to write the sadness I feel... this is my outlet. Written tears poured through my pen..