17 different women, 36 crazy children, 0 babies in utero
Adventures, Advice and Questions from a group of Mormon women who met in Queens, NY and have now scattered all over the place.
Friday, November 09, 2007
Untitled
I heard the news on the phone every time. First that she had laid down on the tracks with a friend, then as the weeks and months passed, the news of her progress.
She didn't die when the train hit her. She lived. She was broken and battered and brain dead, but alive. I got a few parts of the story...teenager, considered a high-risk teen, drugs, all those phrases that go along with THAT kind of news.
She passed away a few months after the attempt.
Every time I read about her or talked about her or heard more about her, I would just listen or read and say "uh-huh." and "what?" and "oh my." And I would touch my heart and I would watch my daughters wrestle or dance or watch tv or eat their food. I pictured her when she was that age, for that is when I met her, that is when I knew her, and then I imagined what happened, what changed between then and now.
How is it possible that these little darlings that want to tell me everything: "I smell somefing," "I have a boo boo. KISS IT!" "Dance, Mommy!", "Mom, can I tell you about what happened today with Brian?" ...that want me to read to them, watch movies with them, dance with them, talk with them....how is it possible that it can change so drastically?
What am I in for? What have I done? What will I do? How will I keep the communication lines that are a little TOO open now ("Mom, I got a little bit of poo in my underwear" Great honey...thank you.), open FOREVER. How will I keep them close and safe? How do I know that when I tell them to stay away from this, that, and for sure all of THAT, that they will stay away? How will I know when they are sad, in pain, hurting? There is so much that could go wrong....it's overwhelming.
Then today, I watched my daughter in ballet class, and her teacher about the age of my friend from days gone by who is now resting in peace: So graceful, so beautiful, the world at her feet. She danced so beautifully and my daughter tried to imitate EVERYTHING she did to a perfectly graceful T....and I saw my daughter as her teacher, and I saw all of her glorious potential and I started tearing up, until the dance was over and my daughter came running to me, hugging me so hard that my hot cocoa spilled all over me. And I didn't get mad.
She didn't die when the train hit her. She lived. She was broken and battered and brain dead, but alive. I got a few parts of the story...teenager, considered a high-risk teen, drugs, all those phrases that go along with THAT kind of news.
She passed away a few months after the attempt.
Every time I read about her or talked about her or heard more about her, I would just listen or read and say "uh-huh." and "what?" and "oh my." And I would touch my heart and I would watch my daughters wrestle or dance or watch tv or eat their food. I pictured her when she was that age, for that is when I met her, that is when I knew her, and then I imagined what happened, what changed between then and now.
How is it possible that these little darlings that want to tell me everything: "I smell somefing," "I have a boo boo. KISS IT!" "Dance, Mommy!", "Mom, can I tell you about what happened today with Brian?" ...that want me to read to them, watch movies with them, dance with them, talk with them....how is it possible that it can change so drastically?
What am I in for? What have I done? What will I do? How will I keep the communication lines that are a little TOO open now ("Mom, I got a little bit of poo in my underwear" Great honey...thank you.), open FOREVER. How will I keep them close and safe? How do I know that when I tell them to stay away from this, that, and for sure all of THAT, that they will stay away? How will I know when they are sad, in pain, hurting? There is so much that could go wrong....it's overwhelming.
Then today, I watched my daughter in ballet class, and her teacher about the age of my friend from days gone by who is now resting in peace: So graceful, so beautiful, the world at her feet. She danced so beautifully and my daughter tried to imitate EVERYTHING she did to a perfectly graceful T....and I saw my daughter as her teacher, and I saw all of her glorious potential and I started tearing up, until the dance was over and my daughter came running to me, hugging me so hard that my hot cocoa spilled all over me. And I didn't get mad.
4 Comments:
WOW. That really makes my little issues today seem less important. (like having a 4 car fender bender whilst taking DD to kindergarten.) I am very glad we are all safe and happy and healthy. And I am so sorry that people suffer so much that they feel they have no alternative than suicide.
I know I wake up every day with a prayer in my heart that we will do everything in our power to be safe and to grow in our relationships as well so we can be happier.
I really haven't cried yet today, but now I have..
posted by Rachel H at 11/09/2007 09:40:00 AM
I've got two toddlers of my own but a friend commented once that she told her kids all growing up that there would come a time when it seemed like she had changed and was being this or that. When that time came they needed to konw it was them that changed. She wasn't being unfair or mean or anything else. They were changing hormonally and needed to know she was still the same. She was still there. And as her kids became teens that time came. And she was able to turn around and say hey this is me....remember all those times I told you. That is what your story reminds me of. On the flip side though, I had a brother kill himself at almost 16 when I was 14. I've been down that route of mental illness in the family and watching siblings struggle with it. Its hell. You just have to make sure your kids have a good support system. That is all you can do. That and you know family home evening, scripture study and prayer. That way when things get bad you'll have the support you need and what little bit of the spirit they can feel.
posted by Angela S at 11/09/2007 06:59:00 PM
I'm so afraid of the same things. Of having this loving, close relationship with my children turn into something different. Of having my children start hating me when they turn 13. Of not having my love for them have any effect. Of not being close to them. I'm scared.
I'm glad they are still little. I'm not ready for the big stuff yet.
posted by TheOneTrueSue at 11/10/2007 07:42:00 PM
Kage, this was beautifully written. I think the scariest part about all you talked about is even if you do everything "just right", everyone has their own free agency. Even teenagers. Add that to mental illness and other outside factors, and in the end, as much as we would like to think we have control, we don't. But all the same, if this were my daughter it would be hard to not blame myself.
If only children could stay young forever. Well not really young, just that perfect young age where they love you, listen to you and are potty trained.
posted by This is Carrie at 11/12/2007 08:01:00 AM
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