Wednesday, November 21, 2007
The Truth About...
I wish I didn't have to but maybe I meant to clarify why I am writing here.
Journal writing is like breathing for me. Twenty years of journal writing sit in big Rubbermaid boxes in my garage. I use these little books to keep time, to remember, to vent, to help myself understand things that feel overwhelming. I make shopping lists, write down nightmares and funny dreams, I draw pictures, I have even taken it out of my purse and let the kids scribble and play hang-man in it when we are someplace stuck waiting.
When Stevie got sick I found an online support group for parents of children who have brain cancer. It was creepy signing up but I was lost and terrified and I needed to connect with someone, anyone. I felt like we were floating in the ocean in a life raft, just Stevie and I. we were so alone.
This group of parents embraced me and helped me navigate. I grew stronger writing about my feelings, without the fear of judgement. There was no pity, we were all floating in the same rafts in the same sea. Alone we were so small but when we tied ourselves together we were bigger and stronger and there was so much hope.
I ended up being a moderator for this group and was active for six years. I hated it when someone new came on, it meant another child was sick but it also feels so incredible to reach out and tie them up to your boat. I left the day Stevie died. I did not want anyone there to be a part of the sadness, I didn't want to steal hope.
A couple months later I discovered this blog-thing.
It gives me the opportunity to continue writing with open honesty. It helps me heal and grow. I have made connections through this blog and that is a bonus I didn't expect.
My hope is that maybe someone who has lost someone, or who loves someone who is experiencing loss will find this blog and it will give them a little insight or help them not feel so alone.
I know myself, I am a survivor. I am almost certain this blog will be about surviving.
He wishes he could comfort me. He wishes he could connect with me on a deep intimate level.
He read my blog.
I thought it would help him understand me better, know what I am feeling. This is the real me at the moment. It is not all of me but it is who I am right now and it is how I feel.
He told my daughter Aly that he feels I am using this blog to illicit sympathy.
I feel I had to write this post so that I could go on writing honestly without any road blocks or censorship.
This blog is not intended to illicit sympathy, but really how could it not. It is about a grieving mother who has lost her young daughter to cancer, you would have to be made out of titanium not to feel a little sad.
I don't want pity. I just want a place to write it all down so it does not make a bigger hole inside me. The connections are wonderful. The comments I am sent are kind and supportive and they fill me with such comfort.
I would never want this blog to hurt anyone in anyway.
The truth about me is that I am at my best when I can be the real me. When I write, the real me slides out so effortlessly.
Thank you, all of you who how found little ways to let me know I am not alone even now when my best friend in the world is so far away.