Sometimes it’s still really hard to believe that my daughter died.
It was 4 months yesterday that she made her transition from this realm to the next and I still find it very hard to believe that one of my children passed away. It just doesn’t seem like something that would happen. Not like I’m better than anyone else or that I’m above it or anything. I’ve accepted it if for no other reason but that I had to because I haven’t seen her in months. I’m not in denial.
Its just those damn sometimes.
I always told Stacey about everything. I had her when I was 19 so at first it was just talking. I didn’t want to use baby talk with her because I think that it’s best to talk to babies like they’re people. You know...
Because they are.
When I first brought her home, I had no idea how to take care of her so we would just look at each other most of the time. I changed her, bathed her, fed her, burped her, but I didn’t really talk to her. She was a baby and I was still a teenager. I had no Earthly idea what I was doing. Bit One day, she looked at me like “So you just not gonna say nothing?” And I said “Good Morning, Chief”. She smiled so hard. It caught me off guard but, after that, I just talked. She grew up, I grew up, and I talked. When She got to high school, I started listening to her more because I wanted to pay more attention to the way her mind worked so that I could help prepare her for life after high school.
But I still talked.
I talked about relationships and bills and money and... just life stuff. I wanted her to know that being adult didn’t make anything easier and having children was even more challenging Because you never stop growing. Never stopped learning, about yourself and everything else.
But the past 4 months have been about mental conversations because the person I talked to for the past 18 years left. I mean, I have 5 other kids that talk almost nonstop so it’s hard for me to get a word in. Plus they’re young so I can’t talk to them about anything. And I have friends but they need me to listen more than I need to talk, so I do. I’m not in a relationship so I can’t vent to my man. It’s just weird.
We watched the same TV shows and sometimes we would discuss them. A new season of 1 show started a couple of weeks ago and I actually called her name to tell her to come watch it with me. Sometimes I get in the bed at night and expect to see her standing at my bedroom door to say “My Mom... Don’t you loooooove me?” because she wanted money for something. Sometimes I can hear her voice calling my name or a song with come on the radio that she used to car dance to.
Remember I told you I had a party to celebrate the release of my second novel and I was super nervous about it? Well had a ball and felt so good about it so when I got home, I totally forgot Stacey wasn’t here to listen to me tell her all about it. All the wind flew out of my lungs becuse I realized, Damn it, Sam. She’s really not here. She was my #1 fan, my biggest critic and my first support system. And all the time I miss those sometimes. Sometimes I think, okay, my daughter died. But I’m still here and I’m grateful for my life and my kids and will live it to the fullest. And sometimes I have to remind myself to breathe because I cannot believe that I lost a child. But I did.
And there’s nothing I can do about it.
Between the sometimes though, I’m encouraged. I write to you guys and it helps. I’m working and writing and raising kids and I should be spending this time packing because I’m getting on a plane in a few hours to go on vacation. I’m being more social than I ever imagined I could be and that’s probably due to the fact that sometimes I think she gave me her social butterfly skills before she left me. She knew I would need to people to keep going. She knew her mom better than anyone else.
But sometimes I wish she knew that having a super hard time without her...