The Battle

It has been 10 days since I posted.  As April 29th approaches I am barely hanging on.  This makes it hard to write but it also makes it more crucial that I do write.  Writing keeps me sane.  April 29th along with May 8th are the two most important dates in my entire life.  Hayley and Henry’s birthdays.  I loved having them so close together.  When they were little we even had a couple of big joint birthday parties because Hayley’s friends were Henry’s friends.  They let him follow them around and always did a great job including him.  Although sometimes that resulted in excellent blackmail photography like the time she dressed him one by one in each of her dance costumes and haw him pose appropriately.  He had so much fun.  Anytime he had attention from her, he was a happy kid.  He was her shadow.  That boy sat through so many dance recitals and dance competitions it might be considered child abuse.  He even took a class one year and had his own recital performance.  Like many activities Henry does, he tries it once and then is done.  He said “I like to try different things and that wasn’t my thing.  I just wanted to see why she likes it”.

Once April started, the birthday talk was on.  She loved celebrating birthdays.  Her own was her favorite!  She loved it more than Christmas.  April was when I had to start planning parties for both kids and brainstorm with Scott the perfect present.  I thrived on creating birthday memories for both kids.  There was the Bellevue Westin surprise shopping, movie, dinner and sleepover party.  There was the epic carnival themed party at Beaver Lake that we invited Henry’s entire class for.  Hayley’s friends manned the different booths and activities.  There was the surprise joint Disneyland trip.  There was the car on the 16th birthday.  That is only some of her celebrations.  Do you know why I did it every single year?  Because she never took it for granted.   She never acted spoiled.  This made spoiling her a true joy.  She would tell Henry her birthday went from the 29th until his on the 8th, it was a birthday week.  She would wave her hand and say “you can have any days you want after that but you have to share it with Mom, mother’s day”.

Last year her first college birthday fell on a Saturday.  She was so happy about being home for her birthday.  I think she expected a marching band to greet her in front of the house when she drove in on Friday.  Her smile always sparkled on her birthday.  She wanted a homemade cake most years but as she got older it was only a Safeway cake that would do.  She wanted a plain cake for her 18th birthday.  I didn’t listen, I ordered a Monster University cake.  Cute right?  She was going to college.  OMG, she pitched a fit in Safeway.  I have never been so shocked to see bratty behavior.  Evidently I should have listened.  After I calmed down I took the cake back to the bakery and begged them to make it generic.  We pulled Sully and Mike off the cake.  I did put them on the counter to remind her how insane she acted over a cake!  I didn’t realize that 18 was time for adult cakes not kid cakes.  I was in denial.

My nightmares have become more frequent.  They happen during the day too.  Something will click and a memory will start to play on repeat until I am a puddle of tears.  The worst are of the night I saw her die.  The most annoying has been the brain worm of a song she would sing to me.  If she caught me dressing she would sing “do your boobs hang low, do they wobble to and fro…” you know the tune.  It is then stuck the rest of the day.  She thought this was hysterical and would not stop until I reminded her that it was her fault since she breast fed for 2 years.  For some reason she loved this, she seem to feel proud and connected to me.

April has been incredibly eventful.  Some things are too new to write about.  But it is that date slowly approaching that has me in a sweat dripping panic.  I used to love April.  Now each and every day that goes by is a slow walk through hell.  When I became close to one of my best friends who had lost her daughter when the girls were 6 I asked her how did it feel.  She would always say “a slow walk through hell”.  14 years later and she is still walking that path.

In addition to the vivid memories and the deep aching pain, the anger has also been an issue this month.  Anger at the people that made her feel her body was not good enough.  Anger at the adults that did not protect her from those people.  I am furious when I hear those people say that the high school is a safe and loving place for students.  I call bullshit.  When I see a “Wolf Strong Pack Strong” sticker I want to vomit.  I am angry at the doctors that caused the issue, the ones that couldn’t diagnose it and the ones that told us she was gone with little or no emotion.  I am angry at all of them.  They destroyed my world.  But most of all I am angry at myself for not saving her, for not doing enough to save her.  I was her advocate and I failed.

The battle is real, it continues.  There is no timeline for grief.  I wish there was.  I wish it was like recovering from an accident.  A predictable recovery.  It is not.  It is unpredictable, brutal, soul crushing, painful, exhausting and never ending.  Most decisions are made at the last minute and I usually change my mind at least 3 times.  We decided this last few days to go to Seabrook on the Washington Coast.  Hayley lived for the ocean.  I am hoping that being there will bring even a small speck of calm and peace.  I convinced or bullied, kind of the same thing to me, my cousin into flying up from Vegas to spend the weekend with us.  My brother, sister in law and nieces will also come for the day.  We plan on releasing lanterns on the beach that night.  There will be a cake but she will not be there to blow out the candles.