Finding A Voice in the Pain

On October 7, 2018 by Michelle Love

I can’t fix it for her, and moms are supposed to fix things.

This morning, Carly’s mood went from happy to decidedly not in a matter of minutes. I pressed her to tell me what was wrong. What happened in the last 5 minutes. She finally struggled to say…”I…miss….BJ.” Oh God. My heart. I think I can feel it breaking. Moms are supposed to fix things, and I can’t.

This is why I turn into it, face the pain of retelling the story, keep pushing for change. Nothing will be different unless those of us who have walked through the valley just keep walking. Holding onto the hope and truth. Through the grief and void of every single day…keep walking. Find the good that is promised. Sometimes I do wonder where the hell it is. Days like this, when Carly struggles to voice the words… “I…miss…BJ”. The tears come – her blue eyes searching for reassurance. I remind her that her tears do not mean she isn’t strong, and that I get how hard it is to give a voice to the feelings inside her heart. My sweet beautiful girl. She finds the ability to come to me a few minutes later and says “I need you to understand something.” We sit down on my bed and she says to me… “You know it’s just really hard, because while BJ was sick, I couldn’t say anything, and when I went to dad’s I couldn’t say anything or act upset because he would yell at me.” I asked her why couldn’t she say anything while BJ was sick? She responded that there was just too much going on and he was just so sick. I realize that she is saying she couldn’t add more pain to the situation by needing comfort herself. A while back she confided that while we were in the hospital with BJ, people told her “Be strong for your momma”, and she took that to heart in her own way. She had just turned 11 a few months before she watched her brother die, and she was holding so much pain inside. I suggested that she definitely talk to her counselor about those things as well. She said she has, which was reassuring that she really is opening up to her grief counselor.

Meanwhile, ugly crying, listening to music, I hear BJ reaching out to me through several songs, and an orange butterfly flutters about the back window. And just now, “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” plays through my headphones.

Thank you BJ. I love you more than anything too.