The week of dread is upon us.
Thursday is the four year anniversary of the accident. It seems like just yesterday, unimaginable that it's been that long.
The kids are a bit off. We all are. They love the morning when we meet at a local park, eat breakfast. play on the playground and send our balloon messages to heaven. Everyone seems to put all of the underlying tensions aside and just enjoy being together and remembering Jeanne and Mike. I actually look forward to the morning. I spend the morning behind the lens of my camera capturing the day and the love our family holds for each other.
For me, for whatever reason, it's the night before that gets me. As bizarre as this sounds, it feels like the accident is going to happen all over again. The horror and shock.
In my head, I run through all of the images that encapsulate that night and the days and week following. Telling E and M their parents were dead. Holding KT in my arms and picking out the glass from her hair. Coming home to K and sobbing. Scenes from the funeral. Seeing E walk into her parent's room, falling face down on their bed and sobbing...the first time I saw her cry about it. Sitting on the floor outside of 18 month old KT's room listening to her cry for her mommy and not being able to do anything.
The questions come flooding in as well. Did she know what was happening? Why couldn't Mike stay on his side of the road? Was she ever in pain? Does she know we have the girls? Does she know we're doing the best we can? Does she know how often I think of her and how they are never forgotten? Not even for a day. Does she know how much I love her?
Why them? Why us?
There is a bit of a difference this year. I feel the dread, but I know that it will be over soon. I know that we just need to remember and get through. Maybe this is the first step towards acceptance? Acceptance that the accident really happened and that they aren"t coming back. This is it. This is our life.
Strangely this insight makes me feel better like I'm moving the boulder called grief further down the road.
I also feel the dread as we come up to big dates like that. Love you.
ReplyDeleteSending kind thoughts your way. Hope it's not as hard a day as you feared.
ReplyDeleteThinking of you and the whole family. I hope that this year is easier.
ReplyDeleteSending thoughts and prayers your way.
ReplyDeleteAcceptance is hard. It took me close to two years to truly accept Hannah was gone. In my heart of hearts, that is. It hurts, and it's hard, and, quite frankly, it SUCKS. But, with acceptance comes a sort of easing of the dread. You know that this truly is your reality and you find some way to keep going.
ReplyDeleteGiven my faith and beliefs, I think Jeanne is with you and knows. She knows.
I'm so sorry it's all so hard. I'll say extra prayers for you all on my walk tomorrow. It never fails I think of you and your family when I'm at CW. :o)
Hang in there.
Hugs.
It must be horrible to feel that dread come upon you.
ReplyDeleteListening to KT cry for her mother - I can't even imagine.
I'm so, so sorry. It's a terribly, terribly sad thing.
I was led here by a comment you posted on An Inch of Grey. Today, Thursday, October 24th, is the 1 year anniversary of my daughter's death in a car accident. She was 11. Her older sister was driving. I can't believe that I have managed to remember to breathe, to buy milk, to vacuum my floors - all these mundane tasks - for 365 days without my child. Oh, how I feel this dread like a force I cannot stop. I just have to wait for it to throw me down, run over me, and then, when it finally leaves, get back up again. This is my life now.
ReplyDeleteI will have you in my prayers all day long.
Thinking of and praying for you today.
ReplyDeleteSending love and prayers.
ReplyDeleteI cannot even begin to imagine the pain of losing a family member like that. Hugs and prayers to you and your family.
ReplyDeleteKind thoughts to you and your family. I can't begin to imagine the pain and heaviness that comes with this day, but my thoughts are with you and yours.
ReplyDeleteIt is so hard to lose a family member this way. My stepmother (in law) lost her adult son in a car accident, and I simply ache for her. You are doing wonderful work with your sister's children. Love and blessings to you.
ReplyDelete-here from the blog roundup
It is really difficult to move on and get back to the old life you've had before an accident. Acceptance might take long as grief takes over everything else, especially when lives have been taken. But please continue moving forward. There are still a lot of great joys in life to savor and enjoy. Just always remember that there are people around you who love you and would help you to start anew. More power to all of you!
ReplyDeleteVesta Duvall @ The Zalkin Law Firm, P.C.
Accidents not only leaves a mark physically, but emotionally and psychologically as well. It is traumatic, and even if it has been years from the time it happened, it would still feel like it was just like yesterday. What matters most is for you to be there for each other, help each other get pass the dread. Forget the pain and free yourselves from the sorrow, but keep the good memories you had with Jeanne and Mike.
ReplyDeleteRobertNOAlaw