I (we) lost two
dogs in 2020. We gained another Labradoodle named Kaylani, named after Kayla.
Dogs are personally my therapy and with significant loss (such as loosing a
child) your existence as you once knew it disappears. It takes time to
rebuild your new you. It's hard to explain unless you're a bereaved parent. I
never even knew what "bereavement" meant until my daughter died.
Meaning it’s a period after a loss when mourning occurs.
For the first two
years after Kayla passed it was under investigation. My grief
"stages" were and are all over the place. Shock. Guilt. Denial.
Anger. Sadness. Bargaining. Depression. A complete and utter loss of what could
have been. The shock came immediately after the Constable told us the news. I
started yelling, "Get out! You have the wrong daughter! You have the wrong
family!" Because the shock was so mentally and physically crippling I
found myself unconsciously yelling, "NO" over and over again for hours.
I found myself vomiting. My chest was heavy, my head was spinning. It was the
worst experience and even as I write this almost three years later, my chest
inside tightens. My tears start to collect.
This kind of
trauma develops PTSD and it did. This inhibits my memory. I don’t
even remember how long I was in shock for. I do remember the bargaining and the
begging that if anything, this wasn’t true. The guilt, the denial, the anger
and the sadness moves along side with each other. It doesn’t matter that it’s
been three years, it is and will always be there inside my heart and soul. It
comes like a wave from a good and or not so good thought.
To date, I really
have to think hard about my daughter Kayla. Time passed only confirms she’s not
here on earth, it reconfirms that she’s not traveling and I won’t see or hear
from her, that indeed my daughter’s future is gone.
What do I do now? Day by
day I continue with my responsibilities as a Mother to my other children. I
keep busy. On special dates, I prepare and give in my daughter’s honor. I have
my loyal companions – dogs. I have continued with my garden.
How have I
changed? Well….. I’m not as social. I’m
not as happy. I have a mask with a resting face hiding inside. I can cry at the
drop of a hat. My motivation is low. However that being said, I get up. I
continue to move forward within this body trying to find the new me. Who I was
is gone. I struggle with PTSD and Anxiety. Depression comes and goes.
Back in
2015 my husband became deathly ill with MRSA that went throughout his system
attacking every organ. He had infection pockets throughout and up and down his
spine. He was septic twice. After being in the hospital for three months, I was
told to be prepared. I thought that was the worst experience of my life. Since
then (because he’s compromised) I often awake wondering if this is the day.
Five
months after Kayla passed we almost lost our son, my second born to a horrific
roll over accident. He was airlifted to Vancouver where he recovered from
hematomas against his lungs and heart. He went through physiotherapy for his
fractured pelvis, prior to this, his femur was crushed where he has a titanium
rod, prior to that, he suffered from spontaneous Pneumothoraxes while receiving
lung surgeries.
I could go on about past traumas that have affected me however
nothing compares to child loss. After
loss you become afraid of loss because it’s real. It’s not “that worry” that’s occasionally
in the back of our heads anymore. It is raw and eventually all of our futures
will endure illness, accidents and death.
How I’ve changed is still a question mark….. I may have all these
broken elements to me however I can share, I can support, I can really listen
and my own personal journey has truly made me understand that we are only
visiting this world. We have to treat people with kindness, we need to give to
others, we need to take photographs and all those moments you’re with someone,
those moments need to be cherished.
Before Kayla’s death I was that type of
Mother who needed to make sure everyone was minding rules, I needed to make
sure I was that parent who was raising sixteen kids to their fullest
potentials. I am still that Mother however I’m more relaxed. Excepting that
sometimes rules can be broken. It’s not about the spilt milk. Just remember,
over that spilled milk (your reaction) will come guilt when that person is
gone. I’ve learned to become more subdued and more equal, rather than trying to
“parent” all the time.
With this new found me, I’ve always loved nature, the
outdoors and today, I love it even more so because I feel closer to Kayla. I
look for signs. I talk to her. I’m working on relationships as a human being
visiting this world while not trying to control it. As much as I hate my
journey and the cards that have been dealt…. I’m alive and with this gift, I
want to find and be the best version of me.
I’m still working on this with
weekly zoom meetings with Camp Kerry. I have befriended others that have lost
children, not only through the internet but through Compassionate Friends. I don’t say,
“Yes” all the time because it’s now time to take care of Carrie. Carrie, who is
she? Again...I question this every day. She’s this middle aged emotionally damaged woman seeking peace. She’s
working on her 1972 VW Busses, picking up the Guitar, gardening and wanting to
write her book with her dogs by her side. She’s a woman that is a human being;
she’s just not a parent with duties to fulfill in this entitled world, she’s
just not a grieving parent. Under everything you see, was a child with all the
hopes and dreams that were shattered along the way.
Carrie, she’s a rebuild. "That's who I am" To conclude….in the midst of all my nuts and bolts, I am grateful for who I have
in my life. I am grateful believing and knowing that our existence, our energy,
our souls do shift to another realm where we will all be together again. As
much as I just wanted to die at the beginning of this journey….I am grateful I’m
still alive. To be continued……"She's a rebuild"
