Sitting Here Dazed and Confused

I sit here in a complete and utter daze right now. To think that it has been 6 months seems so overwhelming in the scope of things.

I have gotten pretty bad about checking my mail. My husband went and got the mail from the mailbox today and brought in a huge stack. In that stack was a big manila envelope. It was from Mari’s teacher that she had from February 15, 2005 until December, 2007 right before Christmas break. Because I fought so hard for my precious baby girl I was able to get her into Julie Ahlbach’s class. We were living in DeKalb, IL at the time. Julie taught the Mentally Handicapped classroom. The grades were from Kindergarten until 5th grade. Mari was technically not supposed to be able to be in this class until the following year as she was still in the early childhood department. Julie accepted her right into her classroom and embraced her like no one else could have. And I cannot forget the aides that were in her classroom that year. Everyone in this classroom was and will always continue to be very special to Keith and I.

Mari grew so much in her classroom. She became more than I ever could have imagined at the beginning when she started in this classroom. I am forever thankful for that.

Back to the manila envelope I mentioned before. Of all the days I received this envelope, I received on the 6th month mark of Mari being gone. I opened up the envelope and to my surprise were pictures of Mari (and some with others from her classroom, or aides, or pictures of her in a group photo of her class with all the aides, and even a couple of pictures of her in her Halloween costume (which I do not have a single one of). I was so thankful to have received these, more than even words can say, but at the same time made me incredibly sad. I just started to cry. And then later I just sobbed. And as I sit here typing this and trying not to cry.

Missing Mari is harder than any one person could ever imagine. I am so thankful to have had her in my life but just so utterly sad at the same time to have her gone now. I love you MarMar and hope to see you soon.

6 months have come and gone

It is hard to believe that as I sit here typing this that 6 months have gone by since Mariana passed away.

Sometimes I just sit here and wonder how this could be. I mean a year ago at this time we had just moved into our new home. Keith had finally gotten his orders for the Oak Lawn recruiting station to become a station commander there. We were getting ready to have both Keith's and Mari's 8th birthday party together here in the next couple of weeks. She was in her new school and she was acclimating quite well.

We were all just so happy but did not even realize just how truly happy we were back then. I mean, we used to complain about what seems so small now. About how cold it is. About how hard Mari was being. About Keith’s long hours (I mean don’t get me wrong, his hours are still ridiculously long, but that is another story ). Life in general, looking back, seems to have been so much simpler while at the very same time being harder in some ways.

Dealing with Mari was a day to day challenge sometimes. We can look back now and smile about all the things that used to drive us crazy when she did them. We can now look at them as things we so much miss and wish we could still have those issues back because ultimately it would mean that she is still here.

My life, the one that I have now, has become so much easier; so much simpler. But to have Mari back, I would take complicated and hard any day of the week. I would take all of those trials and tribulations that Mari gave us. I would just take it all back to have her here right now.

For our first year without Mari, Keith and I still have another 6 months to go. In the next 6 months Keith will have his first birthday without Mari since having her, we will have Valentine’s day without her, Our 15 year anniversary, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter (which every year, just like Christmas, I went shopping for that special Easter dress just for her), My first Mother’s day without her, Keith’s first Father’s day without her, and the 4th of July (which will probably be one of the hardest because last year’s 4th of July was spent in the hospital with her when we had no clue what was ahead of us at that point). Those are the holidays up ahead. Some may not seem that significant compared to others but none the less they are still all of our first holidays without Mari.

I dread any holiday coming because it is just one more reminder that Mari is no longer here with us. Her smile, her laughter, you can hear her and she just makes you smile. She brings excitement into your life while at the same time brings you to utter frustration. Ultimately, I can say, she was half of my everything. Keith is my other half. My everything will be put back together someday when we all meet up in heaven together again someday. We miss you MarMar and will see you again someday soon.

What do you say to someone who has lost a child?

It seems no one really know what to say to someone when that person has lost a child. You can tell that everyone around you is uncomfortable to talk about the child you have lost.It seems that they are always afraid of saying the wrong thing.

I was listening to the radio this morning and there happened to be a small segment on how to cope with the loss of a child. For the most part, it did not apply to me because it was dealing with the loss of a child when you know that your child is supposed to die because it has a terminal illness. Mari was not like this. She was not supposed to die. Her illness came suddenly and took her just as suddenly as it came. So I could not relate to the expected loss of a child because mine was TOTALLY unexpected.

The fact remains that when Mari passed away, we had almost everyone we knew and loved there beside us at both her funeral and her wake. It seems like everyone had come out of the woodwork to give us their love and support on the terrible loss we had suffered. Mari was gone and it made sense to no one. We had so much love and support that it was just so comforting to know they were there for us. To know we could count on those around us.

6 months have passed by (as of tomorrow, January 16) since Mari passed away. It still makes no sense. We still wonder why she was taken from us and I am sure that we will never know while we are here on this earth. As a matter of fact, I have not met one person yet that it actually makes sense to. Life has continued on for everyone. Sometimes I wonder if people have forgotten about us or they are just too afraid to talk to us because they MIGHT say the wrong thing. In reality, they just don’t know what to say. I don’t know why people just don’t talk to us. I never get any calls, even just for 5 minutes, or even just 2 minutes, just to see how we are doing. To make sure we are ok. No one stops by our house. I don’t even receive any emails. As far as the telephone, I will be honest, I really don’t like to talk on the phone anymore, and for the most part, I actually get incredibly impatient when people do talk on the phone for a long time. But just to have a call once in a while to find out how we are doing would be wonderful. My hope is that people will not be so afraid of saying the wrong thing but instead just are there for us. Whether it is a phone call to say hi, they stop by for a short visit, or just a simply email to say, “Hey, I was thinking about you,” would be wonderful. Please do not be so afraid to say the wrong thing that you end up saying nothing at all. We need to hear from those we love and care about. We just need to know that you care.