I Know

Don't tell me that you understand,

Don't tell me that you know...

Don't tell me I will surely survive,

How I will surely grow...

Don't tell me this is just a test,

That I am truly blessed...

That I am chosen for the task,

Apart from all the rest...

Don't come at me with answers,

That can only come from me...

Don't tell me how my grief will pass,

That I will soon be free...

Don't stand in pious judgement,

Of the bonds I must untie...

Don't tell me how to suffer,

And don't tell me how to cry...

My life is filled with selfishness,

My pain is all I see...

But I need you, I need your love,

Unconditionally.

Joanetta Hendel

A few months after Brittany died and I had grown weary of all the cliche' condolences, someone asked me what I would say to a grieving parent, now that I am one, too. I said I didn't know. Unfortunately...now I do.

It seems that since my daughter died, I have become more keenly aware of just how many young people are taken away much too soon. Undoubtedly, there were thousands of grieving parents long before I was forced to join the group, and I'm sure my heart broke for them...for awhile anyway. I probably thanked God my own kids were safe (at least I hope I did. We take so much for granted). But then I would casually move on with my life.

My how that has changed.

So how would I answer that question today? Two words: "I know." I know how it feels to scream and cry WHY??? This cannot be happening! Not my child! Why me? Why us? Why my family when there are so many "bad" people in the world who don't deserve to live?" I know. 

When you feel like your very heart and soul have been sucked out of your body and you can't bear to live another second...I know. When it feels like a thousand pound brick is sitting on your chest and taking even a single breath is the hardest thing you've ever had to do. When your stomach feels turned inside out. When you feel dead inside. When one minute you're screaming at God in relentless rage, but then begging Him the next to give your child back. I know.

I know how it feels to go to bed each night hoping you don't wake up the next morning because the pain starts all over again. When your mind is so foggy you can't remember your own name. The times when you can't even remember what day of the week it is or to have completely forgotten conversations people claimed you had with them. To get lost in your own thoughts in the middle of a sentence as you drift off into your own little world. When the sadness and numbness consume you like a dark pit with no hope in sight. The loneliness, isolation and anger you feel because it seems so easy for everyone else to move on. After all, don't they know what's happened? Don't they realize it's not fair? I know.

I know what it's like when people start dropping out of your life because it's too uncomfortable for them to be around you. When your personality has been forever altered and you aren't the same person anymore. When the person you see staring back at you in the mirror each day is a complete stranger. When you refuse to go in public because you're scared. Scared of crying, scared of seeing one of your child's friends and feeling horribly guilty because, while you would NEVER in a million years wish this pain and suffering on anyone else...you secretly wish it was someone else. Or scared of hearing a voice you would swear is theirs, instinctively turning your head, only to realize it isn't.

I know the madness of all the "what ifs" and "if only." How you replay every conversation you ever had with your child, wondering if they knew how much you love them...how proud you are of them...how thankful you are to be their parent. The madness of wondering if they forgave you for the arguments and groundings and how petty it all seems now. The madness of wondering if you held them enough and spent enough time with them, cherishing every God given second.  

So as much as I wish I didn't...I know. I truly and painfully know.

I love you Brittany...forever and always...no matter what <3