One phone call, three words, and my world changed forever two years/24 months/720 days/17,280 hours/1,036,800 minutes ago. That brings us to today marking my second year without Big Bubby. I will forever remember the call that in a split moment, changed my world forever. Although at the time we didn’t know exactly what had happened, but became all too aware within hours that our precious Big Bubby was gone from our lives forever.
My first year was such a blur with all that I was doing to numb the insurmountable pain that I was trying so desperately to run from, this year has been worse. It was so much easier to stay numb to all of this pain and not care what others thought. To stay numb to the immense pain the loss of a child holds. Waking every morning, only to come to realize it will be another day in hell, another day of feeling the emptiness of Big Bubby being gone, knowing you won’t hear your baby’s voice ever again. Also, waking and knowing, there are people who need you still here on earth and who want to help guide you as easily as possible through this personal hell a mother goes through when you lose a child.
While they are not first’s by date, they are firsts for me in a way. First, let me start by saying, I am better than last year.
I am working toward a better self-being. I am comforted knowing that Big Bubby didn’t suffer, he was taken instantly. I am sure Jesus was there holding Big Bubby’s hand telling him it would all be OK. God and I, although not on perfect terms, are beginning to talk more. The answers I want are still there as questions, never to be answered this side of heaven. They are stronger on some days and easier to face on others. The only thing I never requested was the autopsy report, and after reading through some of my Facebook closed groups I am glad that I didn’t. I believe this road would be must steeper to climb.
I am still in a fight or flight mode as far as watching my family move through their lives. I started recently trying not to call my kids every time I hear of something happening. They are right, they have lives to live and I need to let them live them. Both are engaged to be married over the next year or so and I need to be in the present for them. So I am working hard to be healthier and stronger for them and show them I am here ready to support them and their families.
That is what Big Bubby would want too. He doesn’t want me to fall behind with him and not move through my life. Right now, it does still feel as if I am just here, hollow inside, but here. I am hoping to regain part of my warmth of family at some point, but am not sure how or when this might be possible. For now, I carry on.
I live each day worrying in anxiety about my family. My therapy is helping but there is still a burden in the far reaches of my mind that screams out if I am in fear of something going wrong with my family or friends.
Second, to family and friends:
To all my family and friends who have stood with me over the last 24 months, I thank you. I know that I am bad about reaching out to you all for help, but know that when you do reach out to me, I appreciate it from the deepest part of my broken heart. I have began the enormous process of picking the tiny slivers of glass that represent my heart up and putting them back together one by pain-staking one. Day by Day, hour by hour.
You all have shown me the endurance you go through to put up with me now. I survive on that endurance I see. It is difficult to hear strangers say things like, “he’s in a better place”, “things happen for a reason”, etc. You, who are there, silently waiting if I need you have never said these and other well intention statements that truly are not welcome by a parent of a child loss. We barely make it out of bed daily we don’t need these platitudes. To me it is the endurance of friends who silently stand with me and out of the blue send text or emails checking on me. This is what is real and tangible for me to hold on to reality.
I know I lost some friends, have gained many more and found ones I had previously lost. I am OK with that. This is who I am now, the loss will forever be a part of me. As I said in my last post, our family swiveled on its top when we lost Big Bubby and now we all have roles that we were never destined to have, or maybe we were. I just know that with my husband, Million Dollar Brother, and Baby Sis, all of our roles have changed. This is something that no one going through the process before you would mention because I believe it is one of the more simple dynamics, yet one that is often not addressed in a timely manner, that come with a loss such as ours, but I think it deserves mentioning. This one “small”area of your world after loss could tear a family apart at the seams if left unspoken, i.e., the elephant in the room. Our family is mending, slowly, in our own ways and at different paces, with the gracious help of others around us. We all truly appreciate your overwhelming support for us at our darkest hours.
I love all of you deeply and hope that over the coming years, this anniversary will not take the breath away from me as it has done two years in a row.
Third, to my Big Bubby and Precious Baby Boy:
I want you to know, I am doing the best that I can. I know that you would understand where I am and be OK with how far I have come. I know you have watched over me during some really dark times over the last 24 months to make sure I would be OK. It is the only explanation as to why I am still here. Some days are still hard to wake up to know that you are gone. I still, in the split second of morning light, don’t know you are gone. Then, reality once more, washes over me and I relive the last 24 months of hell.
There are so many things that you have missed out on this year from here, although I know you saw it from the most beautiful place with family and friends gathered around to watch. I know you are so excited to see your siblings married and starting their lives together. Little Sis to your best friend who we all knew would eventually get it right. (Love you favorite son-in-law) Million Dollar Brother to the only woman who will put up with him and love his horses as much as he does, Dapper Des. I wonder what your personality would bring to this group of characters we have gained as family, some who were already family and some whom we have gained since you left us. Although Dapper Des never met you, ya’ll would have been a perfect match for brother/sister in laws. She is such a perfect match for our family.
So on this, the second anniversary of you parting ways way too soon, may you rest in the fact that I am better, that your siblings are growing and in a good place, that dad is doing good, and that Cowgirl is holding her own too. We all love and miss you more than words will ever be able to explain, but we also know that one day, as our last breath on earth is taken, you will be there to tell us not to be afraid and hold our hand as we enter God’s Holy Kingdom.
As for those of you still here with us, please join me in celebrating the life of my son, his friends, his family, and all those who know him on this second anniversary of him going home. He wouldn’t want it any other way! Take a shot of Jack if you are somewhere you can and salute Big Bubby! (his favorite liquor)
As I have closed a lot of my posts, hug your kids and family a little tighter tonight for me and Big Bubby. You never know what tomorrow will bring. Say “I love you” to those that mean the most, for tomorrow may not give you a chance to do so.
Please keep my family and Cowgirls family in your thoughts and prayers over the coming days. That are just as hard as they were last year.
The link below is a great article on anxiety for those who are not sure what I live with on a daily basis. What is small to you maybe huge to me. Please bare with me as I travel this road of grief.