While for most our tragedy is in the rear view mirror - for us the pain remains unbearable at times.
Last week Karre’ and I took an end of summer
vacation to the Outer Banks. We rented a
nice little house in Kill Devil Hills.
It was clean and comfortable – somewhere you would feel safe taking your
family. It rained every day that we were
there but we were lucky enough to manage a trip to the water before the daily
pour. Each day we would see families on
the beach. Families of all ages, races,
nationalities, personalities, etc. We
saw wee little ones with their parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends. We talked about how great that must be. To have your whole family together – enjoying the vacation. We had each other and we spent the evenings
eating good food, enjoying a few beers, watching Dexter and struggling with a
puzzle. It was not how we envisioned
spending our August vacation week – but it was reality.
This first week back at work I have been exhausted. I wondered whether or not it was my
medication, getting caught up from a week away, or the annoying cats. Then I wondered if it was
sadness. I am not really sure what it is
– but I do know that today everything came to a head. My Command had a picnic and most everyone had
family there – husbands, wives, kids and on and on. There were two 2 month old babies, a group of
triplets, one set of twins and lots of little ones running around. I do not know anyone very well at this
command because I have been coming and going throughout the pregnancy and
convalescent leave. I sat at a picnic
bench watching the kids play and the parents introducing their little ones to
each other with pride. I was under the
impression that by this time I would have three little ones tagging along with
me to Command functions. I wanted to
show off my beautiful wife and children.
Instead I sat in silence and watched until sadness took over me and I
was forced to rush to my car before I exploded with emotion. I certainly don’t fault people for beaming
with joy over their families – and I certainly wasn’t going to rain on everyone
else’s parade with my sob story – but I was not going to sit there and pretend
to be happy. I wanted to have a shirt on
that said “sorry if I’m not overjoyed to meet your kids, mine died”.
Instead I left. I went
back to my minivan – which was supposed to carry my family – and I drove away
in tears. I parked in a nearby lot and
cried – for real cried for the first time in a long time. I think that the picnic alone would have been
ok, but with the accumulation of the last two weeks of emotion it ended up
being the final straw.
It has been over three months since Isaac, Maggie and Elijah
left. Sometimes I swear this is all
still just a dream and that everything will be like it should be. Then reality hits and I know that I am going
to be living in this world of loss for the rest of my life. Some will say that last statement sounds
dramatic and that I should just move onward and upward – but it just isn’t that
easy. It just isn’t possible. I am not asking for anybody’s sympathy or for
anyone to follow me down my personal rabbit hole - just know that sometimes
that is where I reside. I try and take
life day to day. Karre’ and I get out
into public – probably more so than we are really ready for, but we go and we
are brave. We enjoy the company of
friends and at the same time we are content being together – alone – talking about
what should have been.
