I have been having the hardest time with contradicting teachings at the church. My favorite is God is in control of everything and yet to make me feel better people tell me Loughlin's death was just an accident. Now in my seriously crazed mind those two do not or can not go together. How about the notion that our children are not ours, but we just have stewardship over them, and yet we put a very large belief in Forever Families. If our kids aren't actually ours but on loan from God, what difference does it make if we are Together Forever? Who is supposed to be together? Repentance is another one. But one is not ever actually forgiven in this church. Our only hope is God is greater than our puny little minds and souls.We are asked to pray, yet when what we are praying for doesn't happen we are to believe it was in God's best interest. So if God is in charge what possible reason do you pray. He picks and chooses who lives and who dies. Why are we to believe we can change that? With faith and prayer and fasting? Rubbish
I think with every death, after sometime has passed, loved ones around us lose interest, start living their lives, as they should. It is hard to keep the attention of passerbies, even friends and family. I can almost hear them scream, "Get on with it, will you. It has been 5+ years." Maybe it is possible to get on with my life. It isn't for lack of trying that I haven't. Something or someone calls me back to that day. It isn't hard. I drive down our hill and pass by the exact place Loughlin took his last breath, 3 or 4 times a day. I would be cold if I didn't drift back and yet every time I do I become colder. Empathy and Sympathy are a couple of emotions I don't do well anymore. So as those around me are saying, "Get on with it." I find myself saying, "Really, get over it." People will tell me they are just young and I think I was 18 when I lost Rhiannon. After 3 months I had people telling me, get on with it. What is 'it'? How do I get on with it? I am on medicine that helps me deal but it also keeps many emotions and feelings out. Numb is my heart. Numb from what I have done, what I have seen, what I have lived, what I believed and now don't. Life is a lie. Seldom is the truth told. Instead we hear worn out cliches: that which doesn't kill me makes me stronger, home can be a heaven on earth, this is a test, God loves you or he wouldn't have gave you this trial, on and on. I do my best to raise my kids. I tell them I love them everyday. I do love them. I love them more than life itself. If I could have I would have gave my life so they could live. So much promise in both of them. I am such a tired 44 year old. My chest hurts from trying to breath. My eyes are blurred from tears. I shake as if I am frightened all day long and at night tremors awake me. How does one forgive herself?
I still cry daily. It seems when the house is quiet, or I am alone, or perhaps a song comes through on the radio, or also the shower. The shower seems to be the most likely place I feel comfortable in letting my sorrows out. It is quiet and warm, The steam fills the air letting you believe you are in another space, maybe time. The air is thick, I play Pandora softly for the silence would be too much. When I emerge I am exhausted after the trip to the past, reliving the good and the awful memories. I used to shower daily but I have found it uses up too much of what is left of my energy and I know what is to come as I step into the abyss. I am sometimes scared that I won't come out the same. I have changed so much over the last 5 years that I really don't remember what I was like before 2008. What is the same? I did put my energies into what now seems silly. I fought battles that were completely unnecessary. I walk away now. It's probably for the best but I also long for the woman I was, the mom, the wife, the fighter. That ship has sailed and took my courage with it. For how can one who is responsible for the death of her son, the destruction of her family, their faith, their happiness ever feel comfortable in her skin again. This spirit will never fill this vessel completely . Politics, religion, poetry, literature have no meaning, no admiration in my heart. I live for a simple smile, a 'I love you', a text, a call from my children, a 'mom you're crazy'. I wear it like a badge. All of these keep me going for another day. Everyday I am grateful for Lea for she yells" I'm here" when she hears me singing "You are my Sunshine". That song chokes me each time it comes to mind. I used to sing it to Loughlin as a baby, a toddler, because I had lost Rhiannon. Please don't take my Sunshine away, but he was taken and now I am expected to go on, pretend like everything is happy in this home, that we are strong, that we are resilient, that we can go on as if they were never here. No one mentions their names. They are but a mere memory in those around us's minds. They look upon us with pity, not with sympathy, or empathy for they have never felt this loss. In fact they go as far as to tell us they believe they could handle this tragedy in a manner so much more eloquently than we have. Asked if we have Pride in our ward in Sunday School last week, I let out a chuckle. No one else thought it funny...................
