Now It’s Over

Now it’s the day after Christmas and I feel that the veil of comfort and the shield that protected me from the horror of being totally enveloped in grief has lifted and disintegrated. Back to reality and the missing of Kaitlyn which is something I can never run far enough from. It’s always there. Except I think, when it’s most important, when it can be so horribly tragic and devastating such as this holiday season, I am protected somehow. Just like the dreams I have of Kaitlyn when I need them the most, when I am at the end of my rope, she comes to me with a message of love to get me through. But I guess so much energy cannot be given me at all times. So here I am faced with the day after Christmas, her memories hanging on the tree, pictures of Christmases past when all was wonderful with the world, her life packed up in boxes and in our hearts and its back to reality for me. A beautiful life left undone. All I ever wished for her never to be. What she tried so desperately to achieve in hopes that she could be happy, now gone.

Soon it will be 2014 and good riddance to the most horrible year of my life, 2013. But in moving forward on in time it just takes me farther away from the last time I saw my Kaitlyn alive and that feeling hurts as well.

My life is a rollercoaster that I’m sentenced to for life. But that horror is nothing compared to what my daughter must have suffered.

Sometimes I am struck by the phrase pertaining to me “getting better.” It’s used in terms of when I will get better, don’t I want to get better, don’t you want to move on and live again or things such as that. What the truth is, I don’t even care if I get better…what is “better.” How can one feel “better” with the reality that is. What I focus on is my daughter’s sadness to make her do what she did and that fact breaks my heart into one million pieces and that is what I think about. I don’t even think about me, my future or anything. I know I should. But I don’t. The only thing that would ever come close to helping me is to be able to help prevent suicide in some ongoing, regular fashion. In that way, I might can live again. I would do it for Kaitlyn, I would do it so no one else would ever have to lose their precious life and no loved one would have to endure this hell, and NO parent could have to contemplate the thought that their life as they knew it no longer existed.

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..
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16 Responses to Now It’s Over

  1. JCox says:

    I think it is why those of us who are left are called survivors. We learn to survive our loss but we are never over our loss. One breath at a time.


  2. The ‘normal’ life of before will never be again, as another blogger said it is an “amputation of the soul” and it is that. it has been two years, ten months and one week since my daughter was murdered, normalcy is gone and each hour of everyday is the hell you speak of and are living through, for that I am very very sorry, very sorry you have been inducted into the grieving mothers club there seems to be more and more of us. My prayers and thoughts are with you, my heart aches that you must endure this pain.


  3. gatito2 says:

    Thank you so much. I’m so sorry for your loss as well. I know I will never, ever be the same again. The loss was just too great. It IS an amputation of one’s soul.


  4. gatito2 says:

    So very true. Thank you.


  5. tersiaburger says:

    I spent Christmas sobbing and sleeping. It was my first Christmas without Vic. I hated it. I too was so grateful when I woke up this morning and Christmas was over. Hugs


  6. kpatkins says:

    People will always lovingly wish for us to get better, to feel better, to get on with the healing and engage the world and live again as we did before, they will never fully understand why we no longer believe in such things. It was a blessing that you came through Christmas on your feet, just remember to breath as you sit in the quiet that is the days after Christmas, when the tree gets tired and Kaitlyn ornaments need to get placed in a special box until next year, don’t worry about the wishes for you of getting better, take to the floor if need be, just remember to breath


  7. gatito2 says:

    Thank you. We both made it through somehow.


  8. gatito2 says:

    Thank you so very much for understanding how I feel. Well said.


  9. L.R.Otiz says:

    There is something about grief that really separates you from the rest of the world. You suddenly become a social leper, people don’t know how to deal with you, and you lose friends because people want you to go back to how things were before. They don’t understand that it’s impossible. I also find it annoying when people say they “have no idea” or “can’t imagine” what I’m going through. Thank you for the reminder that my pain is so terrible that you couldn’t possibly think of what it’s like! I know they mean well, but I want to smack them. And anyone who says a word about “God’s plan”, well…

    Sorry to rant…but please know that you’re not alone, and that you don’t have to meet anyone else’s standard. You have to take care of YOU. There are lyrics to a song that help me when it’s very hard: “Life means that we can find the reasons to keep on getting by/and if reasons we can’t find we’ll make up some to get by/til breath by breath we leave this behind”. Sometimes we have to make up reasons to get out of bed the next day, even if it’s just to feed the cat. We’re all praying for you, Rhonda.


  10. gatito2 says:

    Thank you so much for those honest comments. I feel every one of them at some time or another. It’s good not to feel alone, but hate so very much that you’ve had the experience to tell me I’m not alone in this horrible existence of grief. Thank you so much.


  11. Don’t ever minimize the fact that you are a true survivor. You are brave. You are strong. You are telling the tragic story of your daughter, but you will get through it. And you are definitely not alone. Believe that, if nothing else. Hugs!


  12. gatito2 says:

    Thank you so much. I don’t feel brave or strong but thank you. I have survived so far because I have no choice. I do want to help prevent suicide in others though.


  13. I don’t think we can ever say “better”. We *can* find joy and peace again, but it is a long hard road of grieving. The first holiday season is the worst. We just passed our 4th Christmas without my older son. My counselor once told me that although I was riding the roller coaster, one day it would stop making me sick, and one day I would eventually step off it. Hang in there and believe it will happen, just no time soon. Hugs.


  14. gatito2 says:

    Thank you. I couldn’t help but add to your counselor’s analogy and add that sometimes I think I’m going to be hurled out of the roller coaster to my death or something. 🙂


  15. Lisa Soles says:

    Aunt Rhonda, I just wanted you to know how VERY proud I am to call you MY AUNT! I know that Christmas was hard for you, as was Thanksgiving. Soon will be Kaitlyn’s birthday, Easter and the anniversary of her death. All and everything that we live from hereon out will be considered either “first” or will be numbered from Kaitlyn’s death. That’s how powerful, important and meaningful her life was to all of us. You have managed to continue on and forward through your mourning and grief – and I know without a doubt you have done so because you have a purpose – a voice – a desire – to help others to move forward; to help others change their path that was the path Kaitlyn walked down; to help others in the darkness. It might not seem like it but you have come a very long way in the grieving process. Even though each passing day takes you further away from the last time you saw Kaitlyn, it also takes you one day closer to seeing her again in heaven. This life is so short compared to eternity in heaven and I believe that she is now completely happy, completely at peace and was celebrating her first Christmas face to face with Jesus. One day we will all be celebrating with Him, too! I love you, Aunt Rhonda. I pray that 2014 is kinder, gentler, more loving and more peaceful to everyone on earth.


  16. gatito2 says:

    Lisa, that was so sweet it made me cry, but that’s ok. It’s good to get it out. I do it all the time. Thank you for saying that I have come far, but for me, I don’t think I have. I did make it through Thanksgiving and Christmas somehow but I am SO dreading her birthday and the anniversary of her death.

    But you are right, I do feel like I have a purpose to help others NOT to do the last thing Kaitlyn did. I’m not much on how to get through the loss, but I have SO much to say on awareness and prevention and I hope that it will be my destiny. And I don’t want to just do a thing or two here or there, I want to devote my life to it. Please pray that I will somehow be able to do that and some door will open for me. I don’t know what I will do if I can’t do that. It’s all I want to do.

    Thank you Lisa. I love you!


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