The kids...

How are the kids?

That is a good question. Most days I think Whit and Maddy are handling the passing of Mary amazingly. I would never in a million years have guessed that they would have adjusted back to normal routine and life as well as they have. They seem happy most days and very social. They are doing well in school and I really couldn't be more proud of them. All of this in-spite of the fact that they were without their mom and dad for the better part of a year, really longer. They had grandparents raising them and they did a fabulous job. But grandparents don't replace parents. And then when their parents did come home they were grieving and barely surviving themselves. We did consider family grief counseling and that may still be needed in the future.  I think it is a great idea by the way, but since the kids seem to be doing so well we decided to put it off -for now. No doubt the adjustment has been made easier because of the wonderful support of our family, friends and community who are always so open and gracious with our family and our needs.  But then there are nights like last night that throw me back some and I wonder if the kids are as well adjusted as I think they are. Or maybe this IS all normal? But what IS normal? How are you suppose to process grieving a sibling as a 9 and an 11 year old child? I try to not pretend what happened didn't happen. I encourage the kids to talk to me if they are scared or frightened or have questions as this is what I have been advised to do. I have heard that many families ignore the death of a child and go on with life as if the child never existed or the tragedy didn't happen. I can't imagine doing this, although trying to live without them does cause extreme heartache and pain. Being open and talking when you don't feel like it can be hard and painful sometimes though. And I have also been told it is ok for them to see me grieve. But I do hate to appear weak in front of my children. As a mom I believe I should appear strong and steady as their caretaker. I believe it pains my children to see me sad or cry just as it pains me to see my own parents sad or cry.  

Well, last night around bedtime a discussion came up and it was a hard one. One I wasn't at all expecting. I have to admit I wasn't prepared and I just did the best I could. And the best I could sometimes was by answering, "I have those same questions and I just don't know the answer either." I just pray the answer I gave will be good enough. I realize the kids hurt just like me. They hide their true feelings just like me. They miss Mary just like me. They feel sad and angry sometimes just like me. And they question God sometimes just like me. 

The hard questions asked were these:

"When did you first know Mary was going to die?"

"What was it like when she died?"

"How did they get her body home from Memphis?"

"What did you do when she died?" 

"What did the Drs. say to you when they knew she was going to die?"

"Did she know she was going to die?"

"Am I going to to get cancer one day and die?"

"Why did Mary not ever want us to cry?"

Obviously they have thought a lot about her death and this is a subject I definitely don't like to think about much less discuss out loud. It brought up a lot of painful memories but I answered each question as honest and the best way I could. 

Statements I heard:

When I last saw Mary she was mad at me and I worry she is still mad at me because I never got to say "Good bye".

"I am scared to dream about her."

"I wish she was still here even if she was sick and even if she was still in Memphis".

"Why did people lie and tell us there was a chance for a cure!?!"

"Why was there not a real cure!"

"I will never have a sister again and that isn't fair"

"Cancer picked the wrong person. Mary was good and didn't deserve it."

"When people ask me how many siblings I have I don't know how to answer that question. It confuses me and I don't want to make others sad."

"No one understands how it feels to lose a sister."

"People at school don't understand how I am feeling on the inside. And they want to always talk about Mary."

All of this is a lot to handle not to mention I know of two kids just this week in our community who have since lost their cancer battle. One family I just met last week at the Hopewell sliming. While there we met another beautiful family who had a handsome son who is a cancer survivor, but this same family also just recently lost their dad to AML. We also have two close friends battling right now in Seattle. When will it end? Some days I just want to not think about cancer as it surrounds me and almost suffocates my existence. I can't escape it. My dad has tests coming up for secondary bladder cancer after already fighting colon cancer.  It literally haunts my life. But I will battle on and regain my strength tomorrow because I promised myself I would and most importantly I promised Mary. I told her when we got out of the hospital I would fight and not stop until we found a cure. So that is what I will do...one bow at a time, one fundraiser at a time, one letter to law makers at a time, one coin at a time until change is made and cancer is cured.