Have you ever ordered broccoli cheddar soup from a restaurant and had it come to you with a little layer of skin on the top? You know, where the milk has cooled and binded all of its little particles together? Then, even though it kind of turns you off for a second, you go ahead and break the skin and realize what is underneath isn’t all that bad? In fact, it’s usually better. I feel like some people live their lives like that layer of skin, never breaking the surface because they’re too afraid of what is underneath. It is a lot easier to live that way.
I will admit, I used to be a surface girl. It is easy and low-risk to have a relationship (friendship or otherwise) with someone when you don’t ever really talk about how you feel or how that person makes you feel. You never risk hurting someone’s feelings or losing the relationship. But, at the same time, if you have an issue with something and never share it, you begin to hold onto it and feel hurt or sad or mad or all three rolled into one. For a while, Jake and I were getting very upset about the way some people were handling the death of the girls. We were hurt that they were being shoved out of everyone’s minds; we were hurt when people sent e-mail forwards that might have been cute to others, but were insensitive to us; we were hurt when we didn’t hear from people for long stretches of time simply because they didn’t know what to say to us. Now, though, we’ve started expressing ourselves and not only does it feel good, it feels like we’re living much deeper lives.
As Jake and I have gone through everything, we have learned just how many people are too afraid to talk to us, because that would require breaking their own surface. On the girls’ birthday, we were very surprised when some very close family members didn’t call or contact us the entire day. It hurt us a lot. We didn’t understand why they wouldn’t want to at least call us and see what we were doing for the girls’ special day. So, we asked our families, and it turns out, they were all too afraid to call. They all gave the same response ‘We just didn’t know what to say so we didn’t bother calling.’ And we gave them all the same response ‘It’s ok just to call and tell us you don’t know what to say, but you’re thinking of the girls today and loving them.’ I’m so glad we talked to them because we were able to let them know that we were using the girls’ birthday to celebrate their lives, not mourn their deaths. Hopefully future birthdays will have everybody celebrating instead of mourning.
Along these lines, if you have questions about anything, don’t hesitate to ask. We love talking about the girls and the life we shared with them. We also talk about their death and the months that have followed, not only to help us heal, but hopefully to help others as well.
Perfectly said…good for you guys!
I will share something with you that I have been afraid to because I thought it might upset you. My girls are now into everything. They stick all of my 3 year-olds tiny toys in their mouths. I have said repeatedly that there are guardian angels watching over them that they haven't choked on these toys yet. Every time something like that happens, I think it Sydney and Carynne watching out for them. I have wanted to tell you that, but I was afraid bringing up my girls is in "poor taste". Maybe it is, but the point is that I can't tell you how often I think of you and your girls.
((hugs)) from your crazy stalker friend,
Heather
What a great post. And I am proud of you both for asking…you're right – it is hard to get past that surface layer sometimes. But very worth it!
Hugs!
Julie
I just want to let you know that this is another way you and your girlies have helped people. I have a friend who's baby boy died. This happened before I knew her (Well I know her from high school, but didn't have contact with her for 10 years). She has two other children, but still talks about her little boy. I have to admit that I did not know how to handle this at all. Your blog has helped me understand that she needs to remember and talk about her son. Thank you for helping me be a better friend.
I have followed your blog since before you lost the girls, usually I am silent but today I thought of you and wanted to check and see how you were doing. I have been reading for a while now and your heart mirrors mine. I have not lost a child, but my daughter has a severe genetic disorder. We suffered a tremendous loss when she was diagnosed. All our dreams for her DIED the day they told us. I am sure you felt the same when your girls were diagnosed…and and a MUCH deeper level when they told you they would not survive…..then watching them slowly slip away….I can't even imagine….my heart just aches thinking of your pain.
Many people did not know how to act or what to say when Makily was diagnosed. All I wanted to hear though was that they loved her anyway and they would be there for us no matter what.
I am sure YOU just want to know that everyone remembers your girls, that they are thinking of them. Wishing they were still here just like you do. I agree with you, I would want to hear someone say "I don't know what to say" rather then not saying anything at all. At least then you know they love your girls and think of them.
Please know your girls have touched me and my life. When I get so down about my Makily and what she CAN'T do or won't get to experience I remember how incredibly blessed I AM that she is still even here. Because of you and your girls and many others like you, I appreciate each hug, laugh, smile, giggle and joyful moment that much more.
Gonna keep reading.