Tidal Wave

According to one of the pieces of literature floating around here, grieving is exhausting.  So I must be doing it right. 

Last night we had a sort of impromptu slumber party in Ellie's room.  All throughout the night, I would hear Ellie stirring and wake up to check on her.  Then I wouldn't hear her stirring and I would wake up to check on her.  Not an entirely restful experience I must say. 

Ellie continues to hold on, mostly resting and having some difficulty breathing, occassinally skipping a breath. 

Here is a gorgeous letter written by Ellie's bus attendant, Barb.  I thought that with so many of us grieving Ellie together, you might appreciate this one as I did. 

Debi:  I was filled with so many profound feelings after reading your blog where you really just expressed your feelings.  Bravo to you for your courage!  And I believe you are so right in talking to Ben about the situation.  When my middle son died, my oldest was about 4 years old.  He had so many questions!  One I poignantly remember is when he crawled in my lap and asked me who was going to rock Shane when he cried and who would love him.  I explained that the angels were rocking him as we spoke and that he was loved not only by us, but by God and all his legion of angels.  I also felt it was healthy for him to express these feelings.  He is now 28 years old and has sad but satisfying memories of the short time that Shane was physically with us.

Grief is a strange animal I have found.  It can sweep over you like a tidal wave.  Sometimes it feels like something is hovering just around the corner.  For myself I found that if I just let myself go when the tidal waves hit, I learned that they would subside.  I learned that people experience grief very differently.  Some don't want to talk about it or admit the monster that is standing in the room is really there.  Me, I found, trying to ignore it took way more energy than facing it squarely.  I will admit it almost knocked me to my knees on more than one occasion.  I also believe it has helped shape me into the person I am.

I don't believe the people we love and lose ever leave us except in the physical form.  I see and feel Shane at unexpected moments and am so grateful for those times.  Ultimately I have been able to realize he is with me always, just as Ellie will be you always, just not physically. 

I believe a bond is forged between mother and child almost from the moment of conception.  When I first met Ellie, I believed that she is an earth-bound angel sent to bring joy and expand the world of everyone who loves her that will allow that to happen.  I believe Ellie would want you to remember that as part of her legacy.  I believe if she could, she would look at you with those big brown eyes and say "durry" (don't worry) mommy.  This part of the "cycle of life" is so Hard!

Maybe I am speaking out of turn, and if this hurts you in any way, please just disregard it.  I am sending it in an attempt to commiserate and console.

I am sending warm regards and emotional support to you all.

Barbara