To My Angel Moms

Hello Friends,

I wanted to write a personal letter to you because I knew you all would understand. Before I even begin-thank you, for being there-for being my sisters in grief. Hugs and love to each of you. I hope I will get to know you as we journey on our own path and share our tears, our hopes, our moments and yes, our joy-with one another. Love and Light!

Since the beginning of my journey there have been so many ups and downs. For a good long while I questioned my sanity. I sought professional help, took meds, read books, locked myself in my room and hid behind closed doors until I (the key word) was able to "feel" again. Numbness was my friend, after the fog lifted. I chose to stay within the confines of my wounded soul for the first few months. It was just easier than trying to explain my sadness time after time, and much less exhausting. I always felt like I had to defend my sorrow in the beginning, and I really tired  quickly of old cliches and well meaning tough love advocates.

I was sad, my baby had died, and I was grieving for god's sake, why was that so difficult to understand? No I had not returned to work yet, no I didn't know when I was going back, no I wasn't sure how long I could afford it, no I didn't know how work was doing without me, no, I hadn't kept up with how much leave I had taken or had left. Frankly, I wasn't thinking rationally, at that time I wasn't operating on anything except emotion, and there wasn't much of that to spare. Thank you for caring, now please-go away and leave me alone. Do any of you relate to that scenario?

As more time passed, I gradually made peace with the world, and began to thaw. I say that because it is the way I explain it to myself. I began to feel the pain of loss, loneliness and heartache that I had been protected from in the early months. Now, when I ventured out to the market or church, if the radio was on, or I saw a young woman that reminded me of my daughter, I would burst into tears and pull the car over to the side of the road. But I was making progress-I was able to feel the pain that once was foreign to me. I was able to pinch myself and know this was no longer just a nightmare.

When I felt the tears of sadness dampen my cheeks or my pillow, I was aware of the pain that came along with them. Sometimes, gulping for air as I choked on sobs that wracked my body in waves of sheer agony over the loss of my child drained me of every ounce of energy. I would pray for sleep and settle for exhaustion.

I was identifying with grief. Soon, it would change-I prayed. For each of us "soon" is relevant and for that matter so is "change." Our lives have been forever turned inside out and would never be the same again. That is real change. Now, we must figure out how to survive-no, live-within that change.

For me, I held closely to routine. I prayed almost without stopping most days and expected miracles. I am not disappointed. God does not fail. Life is one tiny miracle after another, if we focus on them. When we pray-we enhance our skill at seeing them unfold. We develop a keen communication between our Guardian Angels, and we lighten our burden of grief by sharing it with Our Father, who opens His Arms to comfort and soothe us.

Some days, I forgot all that, and still do. I have meltdowns on occasions. It has been a little over two years, and I cannot say the pain is less. I can say I am adjusting better to a physical life without my daughter Shannon in it. Do I accept it any easier? Not really. I still question some days, why her and not me. I am the older, it would make more sense if I was the one..but then, I am not in charge, am I? I am blessed with my life and family and friends. It all blends together like colors on an Easter egg. Some days I appreciate the designs more than others. Some days, I see more colors and some days, I want to throw the damn egg against the wall!

Here we all are, Angel Moms-I picture us in a circle holding hands. I close my eyes and pray for peace and strength and healing light to flow through each and every one of us. I ask God and the Angels to give us strength and courage to face our fears and to reach beyond them to find the joy that comes from letting go and letting God. Blessings and may the wings of your Angel comfort you.

And as always, I will hope and pray, because I know the power of prayer and faith as a mother grieves.