My Grief Calendar

****warning, this post is very raw and emotional, Hayley’s death is a part of the writing. If this might be a trigger for you, please skip this one****

August 6th – Hayley’s service. I am not ready. If we don’t go, it can’t happen. I have not written my speech. I am running out of time. If the service doesn’t happen none of this happened. Sara is here, I come down the stairs and see it on the counter. I have never seen it before. I knew Sara was bringing it. It is blue, her favorite color. My knees buckle. What is left of my child is inside that blue jar. In the car, No, this can’t be happening. Where are all these cars going? So many people. So much work done. It is beautiful, the red barn, photos, flowers, glassy babies, a giant canvas of Hayley, Scott is going to faint, get him in a private room, he is breaking down. No, not now, he can’t do that now. He want’s Rob. Kevin gets Rob. Henry’s friends circle him. It is hot. Where are all these people going to sit? This place seats 200. The owner says she stopped counting at 500, they are still trying to figure out where to put all the cars. I don’t understand what is happening. My Uncle and Aunt are here. The bracelets. The programs. The cookies. The food. If Scott and I don’t take our seats it can’t start. If it doesn’t start it won’t be over. So many people. They all want to talk to me. I don’t remember who, or what I said. Sara puts food and root beer in my hands. There is a hedgehog. A cat. What is happening?

September 8th – Our wedding anniversary, 1995. Hayley is not here to bug Scott about what he plans to do to celebrate. Our plans from that day. It is not happening the way it was supposed to. What is there to celebrate?

October 31st – I was the best Halloween Mom. Hayley should be at Western. We decorated like it was Christmas. Always had a party. Always homemade Henry’s Costumes but Hayley’s was always ordered and exactly what she wanted. Henry was the best sport. We had Epic Halloweens.

Thanksgiving – We had started a tradition in 2012. Brunch/Lunch at Salty’s at Alki. So much food. Then a movie. Several years of Harry Potter, Hunger Games, a Disney movie, a Star Wars movie.

Christmas Eve – Hayley kept us on task with our traditions. We always went to the zoo during the day. We would feel like the only ones there. Hayley could sit with her orangutans friends. Henry got to help the keeper feed the penguins. Pick an ornament and stuffed animal in the gift shop. Then into the minivan, White Christmas on the DVD player, Hayley loved the tap scenes. Dinner at Burgermaster. Home, matching pajamas, bake cookies, go to bed.

Christmas – Pajamas all day. Grateful and happy kids. Play, eat and nap all day. Robinsons, Chinese food, and poker games. Lots of baked goods.

January 1st – Happy New Year! Another year without Hayley gone by. Another new year she doesn’t live in. Time for New Year’s Resolutions. I don’t know, how about just Breathe.

January 24th – Happy Birthday to me. Hayley liked to make a homemade cake. She would make sure I felt loved and celebrated. My last Birthday with Hayley she made me cards. “Open When…” Cards. About a dozen. I still have not opened all of them. I don’t know why, maybe once I do it is one more thing I don’t have any more. Some of the ones I have not opened, “Open when you need to know how much I miss you” / “Open when you need to know how much I love you” / “Open when Dad is being an asshole”

February 1st – Happy Birthday Scott. Hayley liked to make him a cake. Daddy’s Girl.

February 14th – Always my Valentine. I always put together Valentine’s gifts for the kids. She told me that I would always be her Valentine. Henry told me all the time when he was not a teenager, “I will always be Mommy’s Sweetie”

Easter – We always as a family colored Eggs. Hayley usually used the white crayon to write the F word or draw a dick. Always went all out on the Easter Baskets. Decorated the house. The boys don’t notice when I don’t.

April 29th – Happy Birthday Hayley, Forever 19. Planned delivery date. Hyper speed labor. Did not know, boy or girl? Hayley Storm or Taylor Scott. 3:30 pm it is a girl, perfect

May 8th – Henry’s Birthday. So happy that we were able to wait, she did not want to share a birthday with a sibling. Hayley picked the middle name for a girl. Kept it a surprise again. Another planned delivery, another high speed labor, complications. Is it a boy or a girl? Henry Scott or Katherine (Kate) Belle? It is a Boy, perfect, one of each. Our family is 100% complete. What will Hayley think when she gets here? 6:30 pm delivery. Hayley arrives, “Why is he not a sister?” Pure love on her face, he is her baby. She will protect him forever. Hayley was the only person that could make him smile for the photos I insist on taking on birthdays. Again, feels like someone is missing.

Mother’s Day – She thought I was the best Mom ever.

Father’s Day – Again, Hayley made the plans for this day. I am so sorry Scott.

July 4th – The last day we spent doing something as a family. The first 4th after her death, Henry was carjacked. The time when we did not know how badly he was hurt was a glimpse into what it would be like to have my life be over. July 4th kicks off the month from hell.

July 11th – Her surgery date. The date she was looking forward to and was nervous about. The last photo taken. The last time I saw her smile. The start of two weeks of pure Hell. The day I wish I never let happen.

July 11th – July 15th – Why can’t I make her better? Why can’t the doctors help? What are we missing? Her constant pain. Calling, messaging every doctor we know, please help us, we need help, we can’t get help. Something is wrong. Please help us.

July 16th – Her last day at home. Her last day in my arms. Her last day in her bed. Her last shower, helping her, her laying on the bathroom floor mustering the strength to get dressed, her repeated apologizing that she was putting us through this. Our last conversation, which ended with me saying “Stop apologizing. Don’t you know how much I love you? Hayley look at me, I adore everything about you”

July 17th – The pain. The family room. The dogs. She leaving the house. The ambulance. The diagnosis. The mistakes. The ICU. Kissing her goodbye thinking everything would be okay now. Dad is staying with you, I am going to check on your brother. Telling her not to worry, it was all going to be better now. They were going to fix her. Going home to reassure Henry that everything was going to be okay now.

July 18th – 1:00 am, the call. Scott, what is wrong, tell me what is wrong. Screaming for Henry, Call Terri. Your sister is having a stroke. Scott why can’t you talk? Racing to the Hospital. Trying to get in to a locked building. Elevator. Rounding the corner to her room. She is naked, what are they doing, they are doing CPR, screaming her name over and over. Losing control of my bladder. Being restrained. Screaming her name from the floor. Scaring everyone in the ICU. Nurses, doctors “she asked for you, she was alert, “where is my mom, call my mom, I need my mom” It happened so fast. I didn’t get there in time. I should not have left. Why did I not understand what could happen? Surgery. She may be able to hear you. Begging her to wake up. Surgery did not go well, too late. Why do her eyes look like that? I know she is gone. Don’t touch me. Nurses and staff won’t look me in the eye. My brother and sister in law. My mom is here. Sandy is here. Kevin setting up a Caring Bridge Page. Time to do tests. What tests? Three tests to determine if she was alive. But she looks alive, she is warm, I can touch her face, hold her hand. I just need to sleep, I will wake up and this will not be happening. People are here, friends, family, pediatrician, surgeon, it will be okay now. Signing paperwork. Who will tell Henry? I need Henry here. Looking at Scott, no words needed.

July 19th – No changes. More tests. I won’t look. It won’t be true. More people. Food. Sandy taking care of Henry and the dogs.

July 20th – We need to talk. Scott, Me, Hayley’s pediatrician. Small room, boxes everywhere. Cold doctor. She is gone. I don’t understand. Sign a DNR. I don’t want to, are you sure? Poor bedside manners. Scott and I, making decisions. Wait, she would want to donate her organs. Scott find that DNR. The Organ donation team is here. Dawn, you have to answer their questions, you are the only one that will know all the answers. It is time to let her friends say goodbye. Giving a list of those friends. Hiding in the family room, Scott showing his strength, greeting each girl and their parents. Letting them say goodbye. Her best friend is in Wyoming and driving back, we won’t sign anything until she gets here, we have to wait for her. Scott stronger than I ever imagined. I was hiding. The date on her death certificate. A piece of paper, file it with her birth certificate. The organ donation team is here.

July 21st – The team. Watching over her. Tests, lots of Tests. Updates, searching for matches. Her heart is not strong enough to donate. We can go another day and try to make it stronger. She must donate her heart, I won’t accept anything less. She has the best heart in the world. Matches found, matches lost. No, we will not leave the hospital until she does. Where is Henry? You are only 15, you need to say goodbye to your sister. Yes, we will go another day.

July 22nd – Crying, laying across her, if I cover her with my body she will be okay. Who is in the doorway? I don’t know him, he is crying. I approach and I see his badge. It is the anesthesiologist that did the epidural on the 11th. He wants permission to see her and say goodbye. I hug him and give him what he needs. More tests. Matches for Kidneys. Canada will take her liver. Her heart is not strong enough. Will you wait another day? Yes we will go another day. More goodbyes. Hiding. Touching her. Mementos. My brother and sister in law, the friends. So many friends, people are there, I don’t hear them. I only see Scott and Henry and Hayley. More tests. More planning. More watching. More goodbyes. Amy, Lacey, Julie. Kind Nurses. Talking about Hayley in the present tense. Touching her, playing music for her. We can’t risk losing the perfect Kidney matches. I won’t risk that for her heart. Can we try one more night? Yes.

July 23rd – We have a match for her heart. We have a doctor willing to take a chance on it. It is the recipients only chance. Procurement Surgery is scheduled at 5:00. The panic, time is running out. This is really happening. Meeting the surgeons. Private plane waiting for her liver. No braids, undo it. My hands in her beautiful hair. Her hands that look like mine. Her matching mani and pedi to mine. Yellow socks. Singing you are my sunshine over and over. Saying goodbye, but not really believing it. Don’t touch me. Scott and I alone with our daughter. No words. Not reality. Scott is crying. I see Scott but he is 27 and he is cutting the cord and he is holding his baby girl. Panic, this can’t be happening. Scott. This is not happening. It is 5:00. No. I am not ready, they need to wait. They can’t wait long. Other lives are waiting, other families are waiting. The Doctor disconnects the machines and his hands keep her breathing. She is still alive. I put my head on her chest and listen to her heart beat. Her nurse, Brittany, in street clothes. The bed is pushed out of the room. Friends and Family, I don’t know who was there. We walk behind her, the top of her head visible, her beautiful hair. Brittany holding my left hand, Scott holding my right. A sad parade. No this is not happening. It can’t happen without my permission, I am the Mom. She needs to come back. Scott make this stop. Our parade stops at the elevators. Amy explains the timing. Brittany promises not to leave her until she is in the hands of the surgeon. Amy will not leave her, she promises. The elevator door opens, NO. I watch my child enter the elevator. Please NO. Scott make this stop. Please NO. The door shuts. The elevator light shows down, it stops on the surgery floor, the number flashes. Our group stands there. I walk back to her ICU room. It is empty, it is quiet. My brother, taking my Mom. What do we do now? Scott asks if I can ride with Terri, he would like to drive home alone. I am scared he won’t make it home. It is sunny, super bright, it hurts my eyes. As we pull out I see Brittany walking to her car. I yell goodbye and thank you. I am home. I don’t know where Henry is. I am on my spot on the couch. People are here. I don’t remember who. Lots of food. Flowers. I watch my phone. A message from Amy, the surgery is happening. The liver is perfect. No on the lungs. The heart surgeon is there, he is very happy, the heart is perfect, he is taking care of it. That must mean the recipient is close. Who are these people? Do they know anything about her? Do they know how special she is? I can’t think of the mechanics of what is happening. If I do I will throw up. Another text. All good news, we made the right decisions, her heart will continue to beat for another. A final call, the surgery is over. My brother took care of the rest. I can’t remember who, time, how I got to bed. Who fed the dogs? Where was Henry? I can’t talk to Scott. When I look at him I see my pain reflected back at me. I feel alone. I don’t feel like I am at home. Nothing feels real. I don’t understand what has happened.

July 24th – Other families celebrate, their loved ones will live because of my child. It is sunny. How can it be sunny? Where is Henry? My Mom flies home. What do we do now? We need to do something? I need something to do. We will have a vigil for the recipients. They need to survive this week. I can’t handle it if they don’t survive. Order the candles. Lori makes it happen. Will her friend sing. This is about the recipients, I will speak, I will tell everyone we need to think positive thoughts that they survive. I will plan it. I must keep moving, I must keep busy. Remember the BE lessons. That was one of our things. I did not know how rare donation was. More people need to be like Hayley. An Idea, a movement. I will plan it. If I have something to do, I can’t think about it. Where is Henry? Scott make it stop. More food. Friends for life, taking care of everything. Henry calls it the magic cooler on the porch. Food just keeps showing up in the cooler. It gives us something to look forward to. I don’t understand what happened. What went wrong? Why could they not save her? What did I do wrong? Does everyone from the previous week know she died? Do they care? How will I survive?