E is for Enough

I give up!

I fucking give up on everything.

Of course I am not enough. I didn’t get to say goodbye. You didn’t even give me a chance. You refuse to let me see you as you lay dying in your hospital bed.

You said I was like a granddaughter to you yet you wouldn’t see me at the end. Told the world that you cared. I am sure that is not what you meant. You were ashamed of me weren’t you?

You truly hated me! How could I have believed… You LIED to me. To my little girl. To her you were her world. She looked up to you.

I did too.

Now you are gone

What the fuck am I suppose to do??

Who will be proud of me now?

Who will tell me it is ok?

Who will sit there and just let me vent, every freaking day. Why did you leave?

You were suppose ro be around forever. You promise to see me do better…

But you left me…

You left me alone

And not even a week later he followed you too.

You were family.

I was suppose to make you both proud.

Just

I promise to better

Please come back home.

I will go to church every Sunday. I won’t question a thing. I will be a better mother. I will smile on command. I will get a job and go to school. I will do it all and more.

Just please please call me so I can walk out that door and see you.

Please let me make you proud.

I know you are gone now

I just handle it right now.

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B is for Blush

I am not sure how old I was when I loat my first friend. I know I was fairly young and the idea of death wasn’t really big. I knew people died but it didn’t really mean much. Death was final and yet not final at the same time. This may have been because I went to my first funeral when I was around two years old.

I remember the casket clearly. Or as clear as a possible two year old can. It was white…maybe pink. So very very tiny. It held the body of a young girl who had died in her sleep. She seemed big to me though I have been told that the girl was around my age.

Her casket was tiny but she appeared so big.

I remember dancing and playing in the aisles as people cried. There was so much crying going on. I didn’t know this girl…it wasn’t until I was older that I realized I never would.

As I aged I went to a lot of funerals. Never again a child and nearly always males. The female line of my family tends to live forever it seems. I only have one grandfather who is still alive. I have lost many uncles and great uncles and great great uncles. And make cousins…yes…I have lost plenty of those as well.

But

That casket.

That tiny casket with the not so tiny girl. She has always stuck in my mind.

I am not sure if I was related to her. My mother doesn’t like to talk about her much since she was born the same year as my older sister. I think maybe even just hours apart and at the same hospital. I think it makes my mom feel guilty that her child lived while the other ladies child did not.

I am not sure though. I have only met the mother once. I remember the hungry look in her eyes every time she glanced at my sister.

As a kid I figred she was some creepy lady. As in adult I understand. I understand her looks and shaking hands as she patted my sisters face. I understand why she ignored me. I understand why her and my mother walked on egg shells when they spoke. I understand it all to well.

See while I have never lost a child I lost a friend at a very young age. I have lost siblings. I have seen friends cry after they spoke of the children they had lost.

I have seen blushing brides with a baby bump turn to tear stained widows with scars.

I have seen it all and more.

So, while I have never lost a child, I can still grieve with them. I can hold them close and understand. Maybe not fully but enough to be there when needed

I refuse to say sorry for not saying goodbye

I did not say goodbye instead I sat there crying. 

I couldn’t get the words out. I couldn’t even think. Instead I cried for what felt like hours until my tears where spent.

Tried to fake a smile and pretend things are going ok. For my daughter I pretened that I am all right with this end. 

But I can’t seem to feel anymore. I can’t bring myself to care. All I have is a liquid heart because what was once there has melted. 

I am not happy with the hand I was dealt and really just want to lie down and give up. 

I Can’t even end this on a proper note. I can’t make a decent beat…im done.