Missing the Future

I am lost without my daughter. It is 5 weeks and 3 days since she died, and the enormity of this tragedy continues to shake me.

We spent the last 2 days with my in-laws at their summer home. Usually, there is a constant parade of family traipsing through - mostly cousins with their babies & children in tow. We asked that if we come, they have no other guests. They happily complied and we had a few days of genuine rest. The anxiety attacks were less severe, the crying jags fewer, and we were actually able to nap in the afternoons. At home, we can't sleep at night, or in the afternoon. Exhaustion has taken its toll - we feel wiped out and emotionally defeated.

The reality of our loss has again presented itself. Pictures of every family event dating back 20 years, are present everywhere.

Christmas
My in-laws host Christmas Eve every year for the entire extended family. After dinner the children follow the adult women upstairs to sing Christmas carols and look for Santa's sleigh in the night sky, while the men put the presents under the tree. Sleigh bells signal Santa's arrival, and the children run excitedly downstairs and set upon the Christmas presents like wild animals. It is a tradition I used to scorn as 'ridiculous' and 'silly.' I failed to see the charm in singing Christmas carols and instead saw the evening as a night of gluttony - my in-laws spoil their only grandchildren, my step-children. I always told my husband - 'when we have children, we will not be doing Christmas Eve there every year. It's disgusting how they spoil your kids.'

Seeing those pitcures - made me realize that Kara would never have that chance. She would never be a part of that tradition. She would never go upstairs with us to sing those carols. She would never be spoiled by her grandparents or tear open her presents with her cousins and siblings. She would never be in those pictures where everyone gathers tight to make sure they're all in the photo. I was ready to deny her that opportunity because I felt it was in bad taste. Now I feel sick that she'll never even have that chance. I'm sure that if she were here, I'd let her be spoiled rotten by her grandparents. I'd make sure she participtated in all family traditions, because they love their grandchildren, and who am I to deny her their love and attention?

There were also photos of my step-children at the summer home from the time they were toddlers. They are now 11 & 13 years old - the tradition continues. Kara will never have the chance to spend summer vacations with her grandparents. She will never swim with her cousins, play on the jungle gym or eat ice cream on the beach. She will never wear a ruffled bathing suit and have sunscreen slathered on her soft baby skin. She will never participate in summer camp or the 4th of July fireworks at the lake. She will never sit on grandpa's lap while he expostulates on politics or complains about jet skiers on the lake, or anything else he feels like talking about with a captive audience.

Today, I am struggling to accept her loss of Peter's family, and their loss of Kara. It is tragic and heartbreaking, and I continue to cry over new losses to be discovered every day.

I visited her grave today and told her how much I love her and miss her. I asked her to please continue coming to me, for I know that during my moments of peace, she is with me. I only have peace when I am calm enough to feel her presence. For now, these moments are fleeting. I am drowning in a sea of despair and she is with me at the moment the waves cease to crash and allow me to catch my breath. Her presence just beyond my grasp most times - but I know she is there during the moments of tranquility just before I fall asleep. If only I could hold on to those moments for longer than a few minutes at a time.

Kara - I'm sorry I thought I could deny you the spoiling from your grandparents. I'm sorry I thought I would keep you from that. I'm sorry you'll never get the chance. I love you baby. And I'm so sorry for all that we've lost.