June 29, 2015
Dear Grace,
Happy 13th Birthday!
Once again, I’m late in writing my birthday letter to you. I’m sitting at Ying’s laundromat washing Luna’s horse blanket. The owner just chewed me out (and rightly so) for bringing the blanket here – I didn’t realize that horse hair can stay in the washing machine and get on the next person’s clothes. She’s had patrons who are allergic to horses complain because they’ve experienced severe reactions following someone who has washed horse blankets. We know how that can be given that you spent a good portion of summer 2014 broken out in hives. Your allergies seem better controlled, but you know how I feel about taking medications. While medications are necessary and warranted in many situations, I just wonder if doctors and scientists always know long-term consequences of taking medications, especially newer ones that haven’t been on the market a considerable amount of time. Truth be told (or maybe I’ve already told you this) but I’ve often wondered if Dad’s extended use of Diclofenac or Diflucan could have, in any way, lead to his developing cancer. We’ll probably never know for sure, but you can tell from my line of questioning, I’m preoccupied with trying to understand “why” Dad died and why he was taken prematurely from us. My rational mind knows this exercise is a waste of time and energy, but on some level, I wish I had answers. Oh my love, it has been a tough year.
July 10, 2015
As has been the usual pattern, it will probably take at least a few sittings for me to finish this birthday letter. You’re seated on my left this very moment as we fly to Chicago for a visit and to attend a family wedding. Ironically, I downloaded a new book last night on Dad’s Kindle, called Seven Choices: Finding Daylight After Loss Shatters Your World. The author speaks to the question of why human beings continually ask “why” after the loss of a loved one even though the questions cannot be answered. In part, the author writes, a family seeks to paint an accurate picture of what happened. Also, grief and loss cause us to jump into “fight or flight” mode to protect ourselves, but we can caught in a state of tension that forces us to ask how or why so we can get out an away from the “intruder”. Clearly, I do not want you, Harry, or me to end up in a chronic state of stress. We need to stay mindful of ways we attempt to defend against loss:
- Becoming Ill
- Having Accidents
- Losing Ourselves in Work
- Falling into Depression
- Engulfing Ourselves in Anger, Guilt, Blame
- Giving Excessive Care to Others
- Flying High with Euphoria
- Copying the Mannerisms, Behavior, or even the Physical Condition of the Lost Person
- Engaging in Self-Destructive Behaviors
Risk taking gives life an edge, but only for so long…defending behaviors noted compounds mourning. Ok, have you had enough quoting from the book? I’ll stop now and get back to the usual pattern of my annual birthday letter.
I like to mention the type of party we either had for you or that you asked for and who attended, but this year, you elected not to have a birthday party. While I was sad at first, I completely understood the emotions you might be experiencing. I usually write about the previous school year so here goes: 7th grade was an interesting academic year for you in that I noticed you spending more time on homework this year than in years past. It also seemed as though your homework, especially Math, was more complicated. You called Ella frequently to ask about Math homework – you also asked Dad or Harry occasionally for help. On only rare instances, you asked for my help (usually as a last resort), but I was pleased that I THINK I was able to offer assistance at least once or twice. Other than Mrs. Hawkins, this was also a year that you didn’t care for a few teachers. However, despite these minor personality conflicts, your grades and dedication to doing the best possible job were impressive! After watching several seasons of Grey’s Anatomy, you’re still considering a career in medicine. Lately, you seem particularly interested in the brain. I solemnly believe that whatever you choose, you have the brains and dedication to succeed!
I’ve really enjoyed watching you advance your soccer skills this year. You’re handling and passing the ball with more finesse, you’re more accurate with the ball, and your ability to get the ball near the goal (or in it!) is much improved. Not to mention your increase in speed and strength. I’m also glad for the friendships you’ve made with your teammates: Ella, Annie, Stephanie, Catherine, and Prestyn. You didn’t always see eye-to-eye with Roger, but I do believe his coaching ability has advanced your skill.
Grace, this summer has been the first time I’ve been surprised and concerned with one of your choices: sneaking out of the house at 2:30 am to hang out with four boys. We’ve already discussed this issue at length, but primarily, I’m concerned that you could have been hurt or betrayed. I hope in the future you will first consider consequences of your decisions.
While I do not believe this will be the last time I write about Dad in your birthday letter, it will probably be the last time I write about his health. It seems that I’ve been concerned about his health for a long time. First of all, I wish more than anything that he were with us today and it makes me sadder than you may be able to imagine that he won’t be part of our physical lives in the future. But as you probably understand at this point, it seems that Dad’s death from complications of colorectal cancer was unavoidable. I probably don’t need to rehash all the medical issues Dad experienced in 2014, but is health took a dramatic turn for the worse UEA weekend (Oct. 16th & 17th). But I’m forever grateful that his mind and his heart were viable until the bitter end. Oh Grace, he loved you and Harry with all his heart and soul. His absence leaves a void that may never be completely filled. My wish for you is that as time passes and as wounds heal, you will know and always feel his love and that you will be able to experience pure joy and happiness. I also pray you have the wherewithal to move through times of sadness with confidence and skill. You can lean on my any time! I pray for your future and I believe we will find a new path. It will take time.
We’re now flying back from Chicago after a nice visit with friends and family. Watching you laugh with your cousins and friends brings me great happiness. In life, we must learn to love fully, laugh often, and face our troubles. Until next year my dear…
Love always, Mom
