Friday, April 22, 2011

Charlie, I was sitting outside for a lil while with the kids so they could burn off some energy. Gio says to me mom, mom why do you look so sad? I sad huhhh he said your not really watching us and you look so SAD! I hugged him and told him I'm ok I promise, How could I tell him that when I see some young kid driving by I imagine you driving home with this cheezy smile on ur face, the window rolled down enjoying the cool air and the music on Full blast because I know how much you loved to blast it in the car when we were driving together but most of all how you had I don't give a shit attitude and you were never for the bullshit! :/ How could I tell him that and make him understand that my heart aches for you and the simplest of things that these young kids do just make me sad for the things that I will never get to see/have :| I love you and miss you so so much Charlie Warlie!!!!
I want to share a A Bereaved Parent’s Wish List....................

I wish you wouldn’t be afraid to speak my child’s name.

My child lived and was very important to me.

I need to hear that my child was important to you also.

I wish my child hadn’t died. I wish I had my child back.

If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child, I wish you

knew that it isn’t because you have hurt me. My child’s death is the

cause of my tears. You have talked about my child and you have allowed

me to share my grief. I thank you for both.

Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn’t shy away from me.

I need you now more than ever. I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you, but I also want

you to hear about me. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you

would let me talk about my child; my favorite topic of the day.

I know that you think of and pray for me often. I also know that my

child’s death pains you too. I wish you would let me know these things

through a phone call, a card or note, or a real big hug.

I wish you wouldn’t expect my grief to be over. The months/years are

traumatic for me, but I wish you could understand that my grief will

never be over. I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die.

I am working hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand

that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child and I will

always grieve that my child is gone.

I wish you wouldn’t expect me “not to think about it” or “be happy”.

Neither will happen for a very long time, so don’t frustrate yourself.

I don’t want to have a “pity party”, but I do wish you would let me grieve.

I must hurt before I can heal.

I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is

miserable for you to be around me when I’m feeling miserable. Please be

as patient with me as I am with you.

When I say, “I’m doing okay”, I wish you could understand that I don’t “feel” okay and that I struggle daily.

I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I’m having are very

normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are

all to be expected. So please excuse me when I’m quiet and withdrawn or

irritable and cranky. Your advice to “take it one day at a time” is excellent advice.

However, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you

could understand that I’m doing good to handle an hour at a time.

Please excuse me if I seem rude, it’s certainly not my intent.

Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When

I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time

alone. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died,

a big part of me died too. I am not the same person I was before my

child died and I will never be that person ever again.

I wish my child hadn’t died. I wish I had my child back.

No comments:

Post a Comment