Butterfly

"Fly me up to where you are
Beyond the distant star
I wish upon tonight
To see you smile
If only for awhile to know you're there
A breath away not far
To where you are"

(Lyrics from "To Where You Are" by Josh Groban)

Those lyrics are engraved on Brittany's stone, along with two angels releasing butterflies on either side of her picture. It's beautiful...like my daughter. On July 13...the 13 month anniversary of her death...I spent the afternoon with Brittany talking to her as I trimmed around her arbor and polished her stone. I do everything the old fashioned way...manual hand shears. I realize there are less strenuous and more timely ways to accomplish what takes me hours, but I like the labor. I don't mind the sweat or blisters or even the dirt on my hands (that last one is huge for me, by the way). Maybe it's because I don't want to take any shortcuts. Maybe it's because I can be more meticulous and achieve the perfection she deserves. Or maybe it's because it allows me lots of extra time to sit and chat with her as I labor away.

Before I go any further with my story, let me preface it with a very important note: I do not believe in reincarnation in any way, shape or form, however it's not my place to judge those who do. It's a personal choice. I do, however, believe in God given signs. And that day, I was blessed enough to receive yet another one.

On this particular afternoon, as I toiled away in the blazing heat, a small butterfly landed on my flip flop (I had taken them off). At first, I paid no attention to it. But then I realized it had been sitting there for the longest time staring at me. No matter how much I worked around it, the butterfly just sat and sat. So...I started talking to it or maybe about it to Brittany. I'm not really sure what the chain of communication was. After awhile, it fluttered over to Brittany's stone and landed on her name...then on the number 13 (the day she died)...and finally on the words to the above lyrics. Which words did the butterfly rest upon? "Fly me up to where you are." Again it sat and sat, no matter how much I moved around. Finally, I stopped working and sat in silence, staring back at this beautiful little creature. It was then that I realized it was the perfect shape of the butterflies being released by the angels on Brittany's stone. (I can already hear the "whatevers" and "she's crazy" thoughts from many of you now). That's ok. I kind of thought I was, too. I called my husband and said, "You're never going to believe this!" So, I took a picture of it to prove I wasn't imagining it at all. Brett, like me, believes in signs from God and we both...without hesitation...believe this was another sign. Do I believe the butterfly was Brittany? Of course not. But I do believe she was there with me that afternoon...and that butterfly was God's way of reminding me that He and Brittany are always with me. 

I knelt down and cried over her picture, thanking God for the butterfly...and for my beautiful daughter. Because no matter what...she's never far. She's just a breath away.

To Work or Not to Work?

"People in mourning have to come to grips with death before they can live again. Mourning can go on for years and years. It doesn’t end after a year:That’s a false fantasy. It usually ends when people realize they can live again, that they can concentrate their energies on their lives as a whole, not on their hurt, and guilt, and pain."




Once again I am faced with another "timeline." I've already made it quite clear in a previous post that I don't believe in grief timelines. It's different for everyone. The timeline that's currently hindering any possible progress in my Quest for a New Normal is when I should go back to work. I use "go back" loosely because I left my job in Florida when this nightmare happened, therefore I have nothing to go back to. Each day I feel less and less capable of performing the professional skills I once prided myself in being pretty successful at. My brain feels like Jello most days.

So many family and friends have kindly suggested that finding something to do outside my home would be good for me. Perhaps not at the executive level I used to work...but something. Through this journey, I've met many parents who returned to work just days after they buried their child, while others waited a few weeks. It's been a year for me and I'm scared. So I ask myself: "Is there an appropriate time to rejoin the workforce after the death of a child?" My answer? Nope. I mean, seriously, how many employers out there are looking for grief stricken mothers...writers...who have been unemployed for a year? And what about the days I'm still unable to get out of bed and face reality? The days I don't even know my own name? Would that change if I got a job? Many around me say it would. But how do they know? These are people who have no clue how my pain is constantly screaming in my head even when I'm doing my best to disguise it while doing "normal" things. I've actually become pretty good at the facade.

I'll be honest though, I've been considering it. And just the very thought frightens me. Once an employer reviews my resume' and realizes I only recently moved back to the St. Louis area, the first logical question would be, "What brings you back here?" Hmmm...how do I get around that one? Should I be straight forward and say my daughter was killed and I couldn't stand being so far away from her? If so, I'd probably cry myself a pool of tears right there! I'm sure that would go over well. (Note to HR: April Schuette is unhireable due to mental instability). Would a potential employer automatically assume that I, indeed, am not capable of holding down a regular job because of my circumstances? Am I capable? More importantly, am I ready? 

The other day, my son said, "Mom, I know what I want to be when I grow up." "What's that" I ask. "A brain doctor!" Wow. I didn't even know he knew that specific kind of doctor existed. "That's awesome, Bryson! You'll make a fantastic brain doctor!" He then proceeded to tell me that he wants to make sure no one else loses "their Brittany" and other moms won't have to be so sad like his mom is. (He also said he was going to live in a big mansion with room enough for his parents and I can shop...a lot!) I'm gonna hold my little guy to that. 

So...while I wait for my son to lavishly support me, I am still faced with my current conundrum: When will I be ready? I guess I'll never know until I try.