I walked through hell...

These last few days have been some of the hardest I've had, but on a whole other level than what I am almost getting used to.  It all started on Tuesday.... John has a cousin, that through similar heartache, I have come to love so dearly. She has dealt with more than anyone ever should, and yet is one of the sweetest people I've ever met. But as luck is, or isn't, on Tuesday she had to admit her son to Primary Children's hospital where, to date he still remains. I won't go into detail about why he is there, or anything else, because that's not my story to tell. But the reason I bring it up, is because there are some things that trigger me really bad. Helicopters give me a panic attack. I spent most of the time in a plane with Brittany, but planes are more common, and here, when you see a helicopter it usually means there is someone fighting for life inside. Another trigger is Primary Children's. I know all too well just some of what goes on inside. So many times it's a beautiful experience, but for me all I can remember is pain. So, knowing someone I love is there with someone they love.... It just hits too close to home. I feel everything she is feeling, I'm sure. The next day I was anxious for her, but coping. Later that day I received a text from my dad informing me that a different cousin and his sweet wife, who was expecting their 5th child, had lost the baby that morning. My heart crumbled. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. Here was the nightmare all over again, only it was somebody else's nightmare that they will never wake from. It may not have been quite so bad if it hadn't also been on the due date of a baby I had lost years before, or if John weren't out of town and out of cell phone range. But with everything coming to a head like that, and it being late at night that I got word, I started reeling. The next morning, things didn't get any better. I was still so consumed with grief for one cousin, and worry for another. I had a wedding I was photographing that day, and I wasn't sure how on earth I was ever going to make it through. Weddings are another trigger for me. All of Brittany's life, I have been planning and looking forward to her getting married. It's one of the things I will miss the most. Ever since she has died, every wedding I have done has been very difficult for that reason. But this wedding was going to be even harder. With this wedding, the bride's name was Britney. It was a beautiful day, and both families were so great to work with. But the fight inside of myself every time I had to say her name and not break down and cry. Trying to keep perspective, was the best acting job I think I have ever done in my whole life.
John came home Saturday night, and I left for the funeral Sunday afternoon. I was lucky enough to be able to bring another cousin with me for the drive over and back. I'm so grateful for that, because it helped me to be able to keep my mind from wondering too much. Over thinking while driving when one is already triggered, is not a good idea for anyone.
Monday morning I woke up with Brittany on my mind more than usual. It was the 5 month anniversary of when she died. Here I was, reliving that heartbreaking day. Sharing that pain with more family. In just a few hours I was going to have to watch another mother and father do the impossible. I was going to have to watch them somehow walk away from their sweet child. I don't think anyone ever really gets over that. Logically we know it's something that has to be done, so we do it. But inside we feel like we have just abandoned our child. We have given up on the hope of them ever taking one more breath. We know it will never happen, but it is the one thing we long for more than anything. Even now I wonder if I had waited just a little longer, would she have woken up from her coma? Would she have smiled up at me, and thanked me for not giving up on her? Would she have been able to fight her way against that awful virus to be able to come home with us, warm and alive? I know the real answer to it, but that doesn't stop me from wondering.
As I pulled up to the mortuary where the services were being held, I sat in my car for quite some time, trying to calm my nerves. Trying to hold back the tears that were threatening. I knew once I started, I wouldn't be able to stop. Thinking I had taken hold of my emotions, I ventured in. Just outside the front doors was my cousin, greeting his sister and her family. The love they share was very evident. You could almost see some of the weight come off of his shoulders as he hugged his sister. And then he looked up and saw me. I lost it as our eyes met. As we embraced it was almost like I was a part of his soul. I could feel his pain in my heart. We hugged for a long time, tears flowing freely. I know this road he is walking. I know the ruts that are waiting for him. I wish so much that I could take this pain from him, and it makes it worse that there is nothing I can do to ease it for him.
We all went in, faces wet and eyes red. It didn't take long for my cousin's wife to find me. She ran to me, engulfing me in her arms. They hadn't been told that I was coming and it was a surprise to her that I had come. But there wasn't anywhere I could be at that moment than to be with them! I we held each other I could feel a bond be created that will never be broken. There is something about sharing a hug like that, that will never be broken. This sweet lady will forever be in my heart. No one can imagine the pain of losing a child, and to share that pain with another creates something that can never be duplicated. My heart broke once again for her. I wanted so much to be able to say something to her that would make her feel a little less lonely, a little less brokenhearted. But there are no words for something like that. So instead I held her, and let her cry as we both trembled with grief.
The service was so tender, so powerful. I watched a young family grow together, and lean on each other. I watched as each small child did what they could to participate and be strong. At the graveside I couldn't help but think this day was so much like the day we buried Brittany. The weather was the same, so much of the family was the same. As I watched, it was almost like an out of body experience watching once again John and I buring our own child. Only this time the roles were played by different people.
I am so glad I made that agonizing trip. As difficult as it was to go through, it was so wonderful to see family again. To feel their love, and be able to love them back. I have thought of my cousin and his family many times every day since then. Wondering how they are doing. Wondering what it is that keeps them standing when they feel like the the world has just crumbled beneath them. Wondering how I can support them even better. But most of all, remembering what we went through, and wishing no one ever had to feel that way.