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Oct 04

“Messed Up Inside”

Last night I read a brilliant post from a grieving father posted on FaceBook called “Messed Up Inside” by Kelly Farley. Please take the time to read the article. It so accurately expressed some of what I was feeling, and how you dread others asking you if you have any children. But mostly, how you are just messed up inside. And how you will always be.

howgriefworksI also snagged an image from Grief The Unspoken’s Facebook page which I will call “How Grief Works.” Wow, they aren’t kidding.

But back to the article I read. When he talked about having less patience and being more direct, that couldn’t describe me more. That may be surprising to those who know me because I am pretty direct, but I used to at least try to soften the blow. I hear myself now and I can hear my lack of caring and patience for the bullshit that he speaks of. I have nothing else to lose of value, so why do I care about diplomacy? If I were brokering a peace deal maybe, but not just in every day conversation like I used to be.

In other news, I am sure that we are hearing Erin’s spirit in the house. Shaun is uncomfortable discussing this, so I just smile to myself, but we have noises that are not us going on. Especially in the evening when it’s our family time. When all 4 of us (me, him, Puppy, and Buffy) are on the same couch, and the animal even perk their ears up, you know something is going on. I am perfectly OK with it. In fact a full-on apparition would be great. I hate to be cliche but the movie Ghost really sort of sums up our conundrum. They are there but untouchable, and yet we long to know they are there and see them. We have theories, and beliefs, but we really don’t know what the hell is going on with Spirit. So I’m fine with whatever Erin’s spirit Self wants to do. And if that is move stuff around in the house or make noise, I’m glad to have her here.

And before you ask, no, we do not have mice or rats, or any other explanation for the noises. Trust me, I don’t want to have false hope so I go over all of that in my mind multiple times before saying it here.

As I fell asleep I still heard the noises periodically, and I think I woke up to see “something” next to the bed around an hour after I got into it. I just assume it was her – it moved fast but I saw it. I am not afraid but the newly departed aren’t exactly my thing and so they are new to me. I would be more comfortable fighting off a demon, as odd as that sounds. But any fear of the unknown is, well, because it’s unknown. Erin’s death has opened up a new doorway for me to learn about. It’s something I never would have cared about to be honest. I didn’t care about that specific subject. Now I care a lot.

Erin used to get up at night a lot, for the first hour after bedtime anyway, and she would quietly sneak into our room to my side of the bed and then ask me for something, to come in there, etc. I can still see her in her gown and with her Bunny smashed up against her nose (she was a “smeller” since she was a baby – and Bunny was always smashed against her nose). Sometimes I would hear her as she hit the doorway, sometimes she would make it all the way to my bedside. Every night I lay down and I expect to see her coming in, and then I have to take a moment to cry.

I realized this morning that I didn’t look in her room when I came downstairs, or tell her good morning. It makes me sad to think that I am getting used to this. Not that I want to feel awful all the time, but who should be getting used to their child being dead? No one is the answer. Yeah, I am messed up inside.

 

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