The seconds, the hours, the days, the weeks, the months

No knowledge that I will never get to hug you again, to talk to you again, or how much I’ve been counseled, or have talked to others about the loss of a child, no matter how many seconds, hours, weeks, and months that go by, no matter how much I’ve read about depression and suicide, no matter how much I know from my own experience with depression, no matter what medicine I take, no matter what goes on in my life, no matter what I do……nothing….none of that can keep me from dropping to my knees when I walk into the spare bedroom where so many of your things are and I am taken over by your scent that strongly remains. It’s as if you are there, only I can’t see you. I know you’re not there, my intellect tells me you are not there, but yet the scent of you brings to my being the full force of having lost you.

I know I have written so much about this, but all the things in my house that were yours so strongly scream your name that I cry if I look at them for more than a few seconds. Because if I remain with them, touch them, remember every memory I have attached to them, I cry and am overtaken by grief. Well, more grief than usual because I am always grief stricken.

If I were the kind of person where smells don’t provoke memories, where things don’t provoke memories so strongly, maybe I would not be affected by these things so much. But I am. But I shall not get rid of a single thing of yours that I have. I’d rather suffer with your memory around me, then continue to suffer without them.

I picked up your running shoes the other day. I picked them up and I hugged them to my chest and I could almost feel every run you made in them. I envisioned all the running trails you ran, how proud you were of running abilities. I hugged them and I cried saying over and over again, “I’m sorry….I am SO sorry Kaitlyn!” And I am. I am so sorry that you hurt so much inside that you had to leave. I could feel you in those shoes.

I don’t understand this world. I don’t understand many of the things that go on in it. I don’t understand all the injustices of the world, the horrible political situations we have, the wars the earth is consumed in, the hatred, the murders, the evil that are in some people. But I also don’t understand the things we have no control over, like why people should be so tortured in this world by loss and grief, disease and sadness. Who are we? Why are we here? Why are we forced to endure the absolute torment of losing the people we love?

Yes, many will say we are not to know the answers to these questions here on earth. Why not? Why are we not supposed to know? My daughter never took anything at face value. She always questioned the norm and what other people accepted on faith. So do I. I just don’t understand it. I never will.

They say I have to move on, to live, to find some happiness. I do in ways, the love of my family. But nothing can remove this painful, huge hole I have in my soul. A hole that only Kaitlyn could fill up and now she is gone.

I know I’m not the only one that has lost a child in this world. But knowing this does not ease my own pain. I simply can’t achieve acceptance of her loss. I know she’s gone, but I can’t accept it, it’s just too unjust. No person on this earth ought to endure the pain of losing a child. No one.

crying

Advertisements

About gatito2

My name is Rhonda. I'm a registered nurse, for the last 20 years, that has not been able to work since the day I learned of my daughter's death by suicide 4-12-13. (She actually died 4-11-13 and her body was not found until the 12th) Me and my husband have been married for 32 years and he's a wonderful man. We grieve in different ways. He works, I write. This is my journey through this horrible land of losing a child..
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

8 Responses to The seconds, the hours, the days, the weeks, the months

  1. You are amazing. I’ve suffered being suicidal throughout my life, but more this year than ever. I know it probably doesn’t help too much to know, but the one thing that goes through my mind every time I seriously think about it is my father. I really don’t think he would survive that – he’s already sick & needs all the strength he has each day. Reading your blog and your bravery in sharing such unimaginable pain has stuck in my head & is giving me more resolve to get help & do what I can to survive – if for nothing but to spare my father from what you must be going through. And I don’t think you need to be in a rush to “move on” – I think your heart will tell you what’s right when.

    Like

  2. My heart goes out to you… So sad

    Like

  3. Ohh my god, I am so sorry for your loss. I don’t really know what to say, but I feel for you and am wishing for you some relief from your suffering tonight. I am so very sorry.

    Like

  4. gatito2 says:

    Thank you. I’ve suffered since the day I learned of my daughter’s death and will for the rest of my life. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever imagined.

    Like

  5. gatito2 says:

    Thank you so much. I hope you are getting help for your suicidal thoughts. Yes, It would probably kill your father if something happened to you. If not that, he would be ruined for life for sure. It’s devastating. I wish peace and happiness for you.

    Like

  6. Carrie Lange says:

    much love and peace to dear. My thoughts are with you.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s