I don't know if many of you know, I volunteer a shit-load at my girl's school. I like to hole myself in the copy room - "making copies at the copy machine..." or slopping good food onto our children's plates in the lunch room. I find myself wanting to be something of that of a 1950's mother of which my Grandmother was. Though, I could never be her as she cooked three meals a day AND baked a dessert every evening. I'm not THAT adventurous or a good cook. Actually, I'm way to lazy for such feats. Very lazy indeed.
Yesterday just so happened to be my day in the life and the world of the lunchroom. I love this time to say hello to my girl's classmates while hearing, "Hey, Mrs. Myers! or Celia's/Moira's Mom! ***hugs for everyone!!!*** "Can I have extra Ranch dressing on my salad?" While this existence may make some feel, oh, so, mundane, it makes me feel WONDERFUL as I know my kids and their friends. I love knowing EVERYONE in my girl's school. Again, something of an old fashion mentality as I had referenced before. Did I forget to mention I'm a co-leader for Girls Scouts in our school as well? If not, well, here you go. Go ahead and call me a loser. A non-supporter of the women's movement as we know of it today. Obviously, I'm complacent barefoot and pregnant..... Sorta...
Who knew a career-driven person of which I happened to be once upon a time, would trade EVERYTHING down from excellent health care to a free car to be with their kids. To know what they are doing and to know who their friends are. I would like to add, while I miss everything independent and isolated along with my own sense of money and prestige - parenting and being a part of my children's lives; makes me feel quite complete. Yes, in the words of Jerry McGuire, "My family completes me."
Well, sorta a quote from this move, right?
Cue the sappy violins. I truly LOVE this part of my life.
You see, I live both a dream or nightmare in which I've always wanted to live. Even when I was seven. Minus a dead child, mind you.
Yes, I'm bringing up the subject of my child's death, yet again. It seems, I can't dream a dream without Thalon encompassing them with every toss and turn of my non conscious moments of existence.
It seems as of late, ALL I dream of is babies. Thalon, other people's babies and well, being alone in a vast land of nothingness - mourning the absence of my son, my girls and husband. Trying to begin time without the knowledge of how to recreate time, space and technology. Yes, my dreams are very sad, bleak and fucked up. EVERY DREAM THAT IS!
I would like to think my inner-psyche is trying to work itself out in my dreams but instead, it seems my dreams are torturing me upon my ever waking or non waking moment. Just like this morning where I awakened after dreaming of comforting "someone's else's" child to only have the child ripped from my arms because they thought I was quite an unfit caregiver for the taking.
"They" might have had this right even in my unconscious making.
I happened to be startled out of this dream by my alarm clock to only rush to the toilet to sit, think, regroup and well.... cry. Full fledged,body racking tears. Not fully awake but comprehensive enough to remember, yet again. Another morning in which I don't have a baby to comfort, kiss and whisper sweet nothings to - even if he would have been 9.375 months old today. Not quite a babe but not quite a toddler. But who is counting these days?
Only my husband and I.
What's worse? I've been dreaming of Thalon with his sweet face looking and staring at me with every turn my imaginary mind will take me. A concept that makes it both beautiful and way too hard to handle and take with every awakening breath.
To top matters off worse? Just like clock-work, I've started my period (TMI, you say?) While I could NEVER EVER replace Thalon, I'm yet to be pregnant 'with child' again.
To complete my thought from the very beginning - while volunteering in the lunch room earlier this week, I came face-to-face with an old friend's mother. She works in the CDC portion of our school with little one's that are still full of wonder and glee. Something I feel we've all lost a part of at this time of our lives. Well, at least I have....
She asked point blank how I was feeling. I told her the same old answer, "Okay."
She told me she lost a child a long time ago wherein I told her I knew her child in high school. You see her daughter was once one of my best friend's in high school. Leah. A sweet, jovial, innocent, pure person. She was born with what at the time was called a "blue baby" diagnosis - to only live beyond modern day expectations.
I loved Leah like a sister even if I have always been an only child. She was someone who knew her time was limited and filled it with the most joy, love, humor and compassion one could ever try to do and give. Something most of us don't even give a 1/16th in doing so.
She, Leah's mother, then remembered me. Not only as a parent who has lost a child but as a person who knew the child she lost. We reminisced her beautiful daughter while crying in front of God, the lunch room and spilled milk on the dirty cafeteria floor.
A situation I would never thought I would EVER have thought I could ever share with another person.
I feel her situation is and has been far worse than mine. She knew her daughter for sixteen years. She was able to form, mold and enjoy her daughter's personality and life. Me? I don't know this length of time.
I answered her earlier question of how I was with, "It's getting harder and harder. More than I could EVER imagine. Even though I didn't have him that long, I feel like I had him a life-time and well, I'm missing him a lifetime. My lifetime."
She agreed with me. She shared with me her grief is and has been worse throughout the years. Just knowing that her daughter would be my age, 40, and missing out on all that could have been and wasn't.
I hugged her tightly. I hugged her as a person who loved her daughter and as a person who lost a child as well. I hugged her as person who is a part of a funky-ass yuck club. I hugged her tightly knowing that in 40 years, I would be her. Missing someone who gave you so much joy in such a short period of time but missing what could have been and what YOU could have been had they been a part of your life. Possibilities both in joy and heartache.
Knowing full well, you will never be the same prior to such circumstances.