I have not sat down to write in a week. \u00a0The past few days have been some of my hardest. \u00a0Maybe writing was helping. \u00a0This won’t be my best entry. \u00a0I do not have focus right now. \u00a0Two weeks ago we spent a couple of days at the Washington Coast at a wonderful house thanks to a generous friend. \u00a0We took Henry and a friend. \u00a0They seem to have fun. \u00a0I took a nap on the beach that was the best sleep I have had since this nightmare began. \u00a0Scott seem to really enjoy his time alone on the beach. \u00a0I found I did not have the energy to trek down to the beach more than once. \u00a0Physically I am not doing well. \u00a0When I looked up the physical symptoms of grief I have them all. One that is frustrating me is that they say you will either lose weight or gain weight. \u00a0Guess which one my body chose? \u00a0Yep. \u00a0The first week I could not eat at all. \u00a0Well I have made up for it. \u00a0The magic blue cooler on the porch helped. But combined with no activity and a truckload of meds, I now have a daunting amount of weight to lose to protect my own heart health. \u00a0So on top of the grief and pain, I now worry that I may not truly survive this journey and where will that leave my son.<\/p>\n
Scott then headed to our friends Hood Canal house for some alone time on the 25th. \u00a0Tamese, Susan and I crashed his solitude on Sunday for a night of slushees, rock painting and floating in the inlet. \u00a0I relaxed a little, enough to notice. \u00a0Scott then stayed the rest of the week while I headed home to hold down the fort. \u00a0There were a few nights and many days that week that I was alone in the house. \u00a0Henry was out or sleeping over at his friend’s house. \u00a0I don’t blame him, this place is a mess and so am I. \u00a0What I did appreciate about the time alone was that I did not have to be quiet. \u00a0I am lonely. \u00a0I also feel that I have to be quiet. \u00a0Both of the males in the house get agitated if they see me cry. \u00a0They have become assimilated to the quiet cry, they can pretend that is not happening. \u00a0But the loud Ugly Cry that truly wants to surface, that has to be when I am alone. \u00a0So a few times I let it rip. \u00a0Loud, animal sounds came from my body while I weeped. \u00a0I found myself screaming her name over and over as if she would answer. \u00a0I startled my self with the sounds that were coming from my body. \u00a0It sounded primal.<\/p>\n
This is the grief that you all don’t see. \u00a0The second time was in her room staring at her birkenstocks and vans, wondering when I should wash the clothes in her hamper. \u00a0We had redecorated her room in the weeks before her surgery, it was not complete. \u00a0Even though the new furniture \u00a0and bedding had been picked by her, it still didn’t feel hers. \u00a0The last time she had slept there she had been in so much pain and not able to enjoy her new room. \u00a0The plan was to finish putting things back in her room while she was recuperating. We had removed everything to purge and to make room to paint. \u00a0All of those things were put in my office\/craft\/bonus\/storage room. \u00a0Her dance trophies were put in a box in the garage. \u00a0She wanted an adult room. \u00a0Six huge bags of clothes and items collected by teen girls were give to the goodwill truck. \u00a0There are even duffles that had not been opened or emptied from her return from the dorms. \u00a0I screamed her name over and over in that room looking at the new bedding, the stack of linens for her new apartment still in the bags and the medical supplies on the bookcase. \u00a0Her iwatch, phone and purse in the nightstand. \u00a0Her endless supplies of blanket and throws, she claimed each were her favorite. \u00a0The mirror she loved that we have had in our home since she was 3. \u00a0Her mattress she has slept on since she was 3. \u00a0Oh and the pillow pets everywhere. \u00a0She wanted to toss them all into the huge goodwill pile the week before surgery. \u00a0I told her to wait and we would pick her 3 favorites while she recuperated. \u00a0Her make up. \u00a0Her socks. \u00a0She wore short Costco socks with her slip on white vans. \u00a0They never matched and she had hundreds. \u00a0The Ikea upholstered stool we had purchased so the little dogs could get up on her bed. \u00a0The dvd player on the bottom shelf waiting to be plugged in. \u00a0She planned to do a Disney Marathon from our collection while she rested.<\/p>\n
I screamed her name over and over until my head and throat hurt. \u00a0The next day I was hoarse. \u00a0Guess what? \u00a0She didn’t answer. \u00a0You see this is the part no one talks about. \u00a0What happens when the meals end (totally good for my weight at this point), what happens when the visits stop, the messages slow down, there is no planning for a service, what goes on in that home. \u00a0It is now both comforting and your sanctuary, but also torturing you every where you look. \u00a0AT THE SAME TIME. \u00a0People don’t tell you how that feels. \u00a0You figure it is bad and sad, but life is moving forward.<\/p>\n
Time stopped for us and our circle of family and friends for 4 weeks. \u00a0That could not last. \u00a0There is work, school and they still have their daughters to go shopping with, travel, and set up in their college dorms. \u00a0I am both jealous of them and so very happy because I know how wonderful it is to have a daughter.<\/p>\n
I have a 15 year old son, who is the best young man I could ask for. \u00a0Without him I can tell you that I may not have chosen to endure this pain. \u00a0He is kind, he is polite at all the right times, he has steady friendships, the moms love him, he doesn’t want to follow a crowd, or push the boundaries like a lot of teen boys. \u00a0He likes his computer he built himself. \u00a0He likes gaming. \u00a0He likes to watch video of podcasts with his dad that I don’t understand. \u00a0He is getting involved with marching band. \u00a0He is a very independent teenager.<\/p>\n
That is the problem, we did a good job with this kid too. \u00a0He is just the right amount of independent for his age. \u00a0I know in my heart he needs his mom. \u00a0But he needs me to just be present. \u00a0He really doesn’t need a bunch of hugs. \u00a0He doesn’t want to sit and chat. \u00a0 He doesn’t want to go wander Homegoods or Target with me. \u00a0He is doing exactly what he should be doing. \u00a0He is being himself. \u00a0He is not trying to be my shoulder or replace my friendship with Hayley. \u00a0I know that is exactly what should be happening and is healthy. \u00a0But remember I am lonely.<\/p>\n
I feel like Fonzie from Happy Days. \u00a0Didn’t he have a little black book? I have a book of friends, acquaintances and a mother that would drop anything to come keep me company. \u00a0But that doesn’t feel right either. \u00a0I am just not good company. \u00a0Some of these people I find soothing and some I just see my grief looking back at me. \u00a0Today I went to the Lake with one of my best friends and her daughter and her friend. \u00a0It sounded nice to get some vitamin D. We originally had talked about just the two of us floating the river. \u00a0But thankfully reservations were full and when I saw the speed right now made the trip 4 hours I knew that would not be relaxing. \u00a0To be trapped for that long would feel claustrophobic. \u00a0So instead we went to the lake. \u00a0I knew I shouldn’t go. \u00a0I almost said no. \u00a0My gut told me no.<\/p>\n
As soon as we left in that huge SUV stuffed full with inflatable plastic I should have asked her to turn around and take me home. \u00a0By the time we got to the lake I wanted out of that car so badly. \u00a0I wanted to be alone. \u00a0I felt ashamed because these were the people I love most. \u00a0While I was dropped off at one section she took the girls to go rent SUP. \u00a0I had my floaty which is like a recliner on the water. \u00a0So comfortable but very difficult to get into gracefully. \u00a0The first attempt I flipped it with my new water proof speaker and towel in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. \u00a0I lost a flip flop in the muck never to surface again. \u00a0I made it on the 2nd try and glanced over to where two women sat in their chairs and when they saw me look, they clapped. \u00a0Yes, evidently they had enjoyed the show. \u00a0If they only knew.<\/p>\n
I paddled out, the water was mucky and not very refreshing. \u00a0I tried to connect my new speaker to my phone now hanging in it’s new dry case around my neck with no luck. \u00a0But thank you Pandora for choosing that moment to play one of the last songs i had played for Hayley before she was gone. \u00a0The Fray, Never say Never. \u00a0The hook is “don’t let go” over and over. \u00a0My friend arrived and paddled out. \u00a0I tried to relax.<\/p>\n
At one of my counseling sessions he tried to teach me to quiet my brain. \u00a0He had only spent a total of 2 hours with me at that point over three weeks and he pointed out that I appear to have a lot going on in my head at one time. \u00a0Like a computer with lots of tabs open. \u00a0“Is that normal for you?” \u00a0Wow, I don’t think Scott had ever acknowledged this about me. \u00a0Bingo. \u00a0Yep, always. \u00a0Now add this tragic journey and sprinkle grief all over that hard drive and we have a problem. \u00a0He had me close my eyes and asked me to tell him what sounds I heard. \u00a0Being competitive this seemed like a test. I was that student that had to always get the highest score, bring it on. \u00a0Like the search in the Sunday paper where you have to find the things wrong with two seemingly duplicate pictures. \u00a0I heard the music in the lobby, traffic outside the window, the squeak of his chair. \u00a0“Is that all?” he asked. OMG, I am failing his test. okay, focus what else can I hear. \u00a0I felt like there was maybe 3 more sounds I was missing. \u00a0I tried to find them. \u00a0Clearly I failed. \u00a0But did I?<\/p>\n
He said how long do you think that took? \u00a0Forever was what my brain said, maybe 5 minutes? \u00a0No, it had only been 60 seconds. \u00a0But it felt longer because for the first 60 seconds in weeks I did not think about Hayley’s death, my grief or my pain. \u00a0He is good. \u00a0We then tried two other exercises involving sand and breathing from my abdomen. \u00a0Both I truthfully told him were not going to work, nice try. \u00a0But the hearing game, also known as mindfulness, I liked that.<\/p>\n
There on the lake where I didn’t want to be, I laid my head back and closed my eyes, what did I hear? \u00a0I heard too much! \u00a0Fricking kids screaming and splashing every where, ducks quacking which means I was floating in duck shit, a jet ski, several boats that clearly needed tune ups. \u00a0When I opened my eyes I saw a hazy blue sky and all I wanted was to be at home. \u00a0NOW, right that moment. \u00a0It felt like I couldn’t breathe, I cried. \u00a0I was so thankful to have my phone I called my son because Scott didn’t answer and asked him to tell Dad to come pick me up at the park as fast as he could. \u00a0He asked what was wrong, I said “I just need to be home now”. \u00a0He didn’t need any other explanation. \u00a0I yelled to my friend, I have to go, \u00a0I just can’t. \u00a0I paddled to shore, dragged my bag and floaty wearing one flip flop (I figured, why get slivers in both feet). \u00a0I was crying and I felt as if every person, child and bird there was watching me. \u00a0This pathetic, fat, grieving mother dragging her floaty across the playground while wearing one flip flop. \u00a0Winded I sat on a bench near the playground. \u00a0I wanted to scream at the tired looking mother that had just put her toddler’s shoes back on for the third time. \u00a0“LET HER GO BAREFOOT!” \u00a0because you will never get that moment back, let her get her clothes wet, let her walk through the splash fountain. \u00a0Be proud she at least didn’t want to ruin her cute shoes.<\/p>\n
When you are grieving you are extra sensitive in all ways. \u00a0Noises are louder. \u00a0The ground is harder. \u00a0Smells are stronger. \u00a0You see details everywhere. \u00a0I felt as if all of this noise was suffocating me. \u00a0I can find a way to see, remember or imagine Hayley in every single thing I see. \u00a0I remembered running the inflatable race with her right at that park a year ago. \u00a0I remember when she loved splash fountains when she was 3. \u00a0That tree over there looks like one I took her photo under. \u00a0Oh look, there is a butterfly maybe that is a sign from Hayley. \u00a0It is so overwhelming it takes your breath away. \u00a0That is if you are not already breathing shallow to avoid Ugly Crying in public.<\/p>\n
I was feeling so awful physically recently and I tried to come up with the word to describe it to a friend and I could only think of the word panting. \u00a0I felt like I was always panting. \u00a0At that same session the counselor made the observation that I am always breathing very shallow when he sees me. \u00a0That was the description I could not identify. \u00a0I am always breathing shallow. \u00a0If I try to take a deep breath it hurts. \u00a0If I give my body, my brain a deep breath and enough oxygen it only gives me back pain and the crying will start again. \u00a0If I don’t breathe deep enough I won’t have the energy to feel, I won’t have the energy to scream at someone for no reason and I won’t relax, letting down my guard or softening the walls that I have built to survive. \u00a0 Others may see me and may notice I am not as talkative or animated as normal. \u00a0So to them the sound of grief is quiet. \u00a0But it is not. \u00a0It is loud. \u00a0I wish it was quiet. \u00a0But it is not. \u00a0I can totally understand how a grieving person may turn to alcohol or pills to dull the noise. \u00a0I always thought it was so they don’t feel. \u00a0But now I think it would be to just make all the noise go away.<\/p>\n
When Scott arrived, he took my dirty floaty and wondered why I was wearing one flip flop. \u00a0I did the silent sob all the way home, I did not stop until I was in the shower. \u00a0Scott never said a word. \u00a0At home at least I know what to expect. \u00a0I know what objects mean, there are no surprises. \u00a0Someone grieving a shocking unexpected loss craves predictability. \u00a0I avoided my usual online conversations. \u00a0I watched 4 episodes of Big Brother. \u00a0I took a nap on the couch surrounded by my dogs. \u00a0All I could think about was how life was going on for everyone around me as it should. \u00a0But my life did not. \u00a0I am afraid it will never move forward. \u00a0I am afraid it will always hurt this much. \u00a0I am afraid everyone will forget Hayley. \u00a0I am afraid that with one of the loves of my life gone, that I have peaked. \u00a0I will never be as happy as I was prior to July 11th. \u00a0I am afraid I cannot be a good parent to Henry or wife to Scott. \u00a0All of this fear and pain is the sound of grief.<\/p>\n
I don’t know how you can help. \u00a0I would truly ask if I knew. \u00a0I can only really hope by exposing my personal thoughts and exposing my grief that I can find the right words. \u00a0I hope these words find there way to someone else that may say something like “holy shit that is exactly how I feel”. \u00a0I am willing to\u00a0try anything even if \u00a0it requires me scrubbing sand, duck shit and muck stains from my feet and body.<\/span><\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" I have not sat down to write in a week. \u00a0The past few days have been some of my hardest. \u00a0Maybe writing was helping. \u00a0This won’t be my best entry. \u00a0I do not have focus right now. \u00a0Two weeks ago we spent a couple of days at the Washington Coast at a wonderful house thanks … <\/p>\n![\"\"](\"http:\/\/hayleysmom.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/09\/21363360_10215005237233181_1610053001_o-169x300.jpg\")