Losing hope

 Typically the end of the school year is filled with fun activities, exciting events, and endless laughter. This year, I just feel numb. I can’t say that it was “the best year ever”! Because truthfully, this is the worst year of my life. While everyone is busy planning their summer trips and filling up their calendars, I am anxious for a little bit of room to grieve, isolate, and try to find hope. 

Today I took a nap with my daughter’s urn. I was craving that closeness…and it was the only way that I could quench the yearning to be near her. We haven’t explained what the urn is to the kids yet, obviously, as that is too abstract of a concept. But it just felt right to have “her” right beside me. 

While other children are attending camps and activities this summer, one of the things that Luke will be going to is a camp for bereaved siblings. Two of the days I will be included in some discussions. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t incredibly nervous to go back to the same building I first viewed her in after losing her. I already have a massive pit in my stomach even thinking about it. I know that in the end this will be good for Luke’s mental health. I am also grateful that Hamilton’s provides these types of grief support. 

Lately, I have just felt this immense need to isolate myself from the world. It all just seems to be too much for me many days. It’s a heartbreaking realization knowing that other people are moving on with life, and I’m still in the same space I was back in January. So many worries and thoughts race through my head regularly. I worry that people won’t know me as Bridget’s mom. New people I will meet moving forward will never even know of Bridget’s existence. Will her memory just fade off into the distance? Everyone else seems so positive and through their grief…while I’ve only just scratched the surface of mine. 

Have you ever watched the movie 50 First Dates? Drew Barrymore’s character has a tragic accident and wakes up each day to relive the trauma and try to comprehend her new life. I feel like I am stuck in the same exact cycle. Every morning when I wake up, it’s that snap back to reality that yes, my daughter did in fact pass away. Then there come the visuals of the final day and a half of her life…and that crumbles me to my core. 

For so many years (especially in summertime) it was just Bridget and I. I am having a difficult time coming to terms with the fact that Bridget isn’t ever coming home. I catch myself multiple times a day checking the clock thinking camp is over and it is time to pick her up. Most days go by where I am fighting to put forth energy to even play with my younger two. I wish they knew the mom that I used to be. I worry that I am failing them through my struggles. 

I know I’ll never be the same, I’ll never feel whole again, but will I ever find the strength to laugh without feeling guilty, play with my kids without my heart feeling like it’s elsewhere, or even just the act of being fully happy? I’ve heard from several others, that once you lose a child, you never actually recover. It’s a lonely, scary, and intimidating space to be in. 

This is all over the place…I just really miss my girl.