I have been writing (for days, yet not posted because I can't seem to complete a thought as of late) about my obsessions and my purely selfish wants, needs and desires. Everything from Botox, expensive rememedies for the wrinkles to truly stupid stuff that in the scheme of things - Do not really matter.
Today, I volunteered at the girls' school all day. Everything from a teacher assessment for my oldest, to a Staff Appreciation luncheon, to cutting shit for the library. Around 2:15 I started receiving texting notifications of Tornado alerts for Oklahoma County. Since I am from a mother who is hyper-weather aware, I checked my little chickadees out of school to hunker down and let them play Monster High on the computer. Because I'd rather blow away with them than without them.
Then the truly horrific happened.
I lived throught the May 3, 1999 tornado as it was way south of us. I texted friends, listened to their hysterical cries of not knowing where their family members happened to be. The devastation was truly horrific. The worst tornado in recorded history at that time. Around 44 people perished that day.
Today was even far worse.
No one thought we could top it. The storm Gods thought otherwise.
Babies are dead. How can we be cavalier and heartless? There are a few Twitter assholes who are callous and truly shitty.
If you have funds to donate for water, supplies and shelter, please do so. The horror is something you can not imagine.
I know when people post something for their friends, sister, uncle and child, I give my last dime. Because I want to believe in Karma and well the positivity of the world and helping. Humanity helping humans. A common love and connection.
Here are a few sites if you feel the need to help:
The Oklahoma Red Cross is asking people to donate by texting Red Cross to 90999 which will be a $10 donation. What I understand, the donation will be added to your cell phone bill.
The Salvation Army: www.donate.salvationarmyusa.org/uss/eds/aok.
You can text FOOD to 32333 (the OK Food Bank) to give $10 to help with relief efforts via News 9.
These are just a few of the outlets that directly aid relief workers and families.
As of 12:15am? 91 are confirmed dead. They death toll is expected to rise to at least another 40+.
I am thankful to hug my girls tight tonight while serving crappy frozen pizza because I was crying too hard for the parents who have far more horrific things to worry about other than freezer-burnt pizza.
I am thankful my friend, who lives in the path of destruction was reunited with her son, who's school was hit by the tornado.
I am thankful for social media for spreading the word for the lost, the hopeful and the connections of all far and wide.
Father, forgive me: *Even if I shared my friend's video on Facebook and Twitter of the actual tornado and now it is viral and CNN and NBC want to talk to them about it. Shhh.... I had nothing to do with it and feel quite guilty and remorseful. Sorta. I didn't do it. I am so glad they are alive and well to worry about the knocks on their door.*
We managed to get through the funeral with only 1/4 of the Xanax needed to be coherent. (I'm quite proud of myself if I do say so myself.) I don't know what the other half was doing but they seemed to be in their own world to manage. I would expect nothing less. Truly. The whole scene is even more sad, daunting and well, more in the dark than it was two weeks ago.
Since we last left off, I have received subsequent dialing for dollar calls of support, an all-knowing grief connection, turning into the expert of anything and everything - landing on I'm more grieved than the anyone in the free world and you are just here, to listen to me spout. Because this is my job in life. To make everyone feel better. I'm not quite sure when I turned into Julie, The Cruise Director, of grief and dysfunction but, somehow, I was awarded and missed the big fanfare of a meeting. A post I would have surely turned down if I were given a voice or choice.
Even more special: unexpected geysers of emotion are quite rampant in my world.
I don't do spouting well. Misplaced anger, guilt and craziness should really go to someone else. Some more equipped to deal with the dysfunction. One who might actually accept it.
We've buried a kid, had a birthday, two tooth fairy visits and a wedding anniversary come to a dust devil like existence around here.
All have been met with such fanfare and glitter it would make your head spin except for the latter.
After very detailed conversations of anxiety, grief and feeling so unappreciated and unacknowledged, I have done met my match in the emotionally unavailability department. I always knew it but the realization is more than I really can accept at the moment....
I feel quite bereft and well, so fucking done with partnerships. OF ANY KIND!!! Because truthfully? I don't have one. Haven't had one in many years. and it is quite sad.
All I want is to be acknowledged. To not be dismissed. To feel valid when I don't feel so. at. all.
And to sound trite? Cherished. and loved.
Please tell me one good thing that happened in your relationships this week. Anything and everything. Give me some motherfucking hope that after all is said and done: A man will care about what the fuck happens to me. to you. to someone other than himself. Because I won't believe it if you don't tell me.
I started a few posts in the past few weeks to only abandon them because they seemed well, stupid and insipid.
Don't worry. Stupid and insipid will return shortly. I can't seem to help myself.
We, hell, I mean, ME, managed to get through yet another anniversary intact. Felt pretty good that no one died and my husband and I didn't divorce during this time. Believe me, it's been hard. Real hard.
Until yesterday.
I received a call from one of my sister-in-laws that one my nephews was in surgery and they didn't think he would make it out alive. At that moment, I knew. The curse of death was once again surrounding us. Trying to play a childish game of duck-duck-goose with our lineage.
After I calmly prepared my girls for the day and safely deposited them off to school, I rushed up to the hospital to do what? I am not sure. Support another grieving person(s)? Who am I to do such a thing? I was met with a room filled with crying and deep, deep sadness. An all too familiar enclosed room, full of remnant grief pouring out of it's plaster walls. A strangling feeling I once vaguely remember having in such a room once upon a time.
My eighteen-year-old nephew did what other kids his age does. He snuck out of the house to play. Unfortunately his play ended up in tragedy in which he died on the operating room table from a massive fall. A horrific and unfortunate end to willful whims.
A fucking 'fall' while running in the streets and curbs of nightfall. At least this is what has been re-told by other eye witnesses.
After many a familial strife in which I found myself being yelled at by my Father-in-law while trying to keep the peace and calm while awaiting the final news - in the end I found myself trying to comfort another woman who lost her child. Another woman with whom I have had many a passive-aggressive battle with. Another woman,who at that moment, I felt none of these previous malice feelings for but those of her grief. As a mother who has lost a child feels.
I saw all of the tale-tell signs of Chaplains nervously pacing. Clinical coordinators asking about other siblings. The knowing looks between staff members of WTF? But it wasn't my place to try to prepare her of the inevitable. I didn't want to be the one who made her give up hope. Even if hope was fleeting.
Isn't hope all we have anymore?
In the end. When the news was announced. I stood in the corner with my arms folded. Expressionless. I don't think. Wailing, angry and mournful words stifling the room while more stupid shit from my FIL ensued. I still stood motionless.
Was this how I looked when I was told my son was gone?
Was this how the waiting room looked when everyone realized my son was gone?
Did the doctors say the same thing to me with the same passionless tone in their voice?
How the hell did I survive this bullshit without imploding? Surely there has been a case of implosion of grief somewhere documented in the record books. I need to get on that research. Oh, wait. I hate research.
I still stood there. Quietly reliving my own private shit-storm. Wanting to be ANYWHERE but here. Looking at her husband as he comforted her and feeling jealous that I didn't have the same comfort from mine then and now. Did I fail to share Rich is out of town until tomorrow. Don't even get me started on him at this point. Because there really isn't any point.
I left before the hysteria rose to a crescendo that I could no longer handle. I murmured, "I am so sorry,"and bolted.
Four years and tens days before, I was there. I didn't want to relieve it again. I simply can't hoe this road for them.
I just can't.
I haven't finished tilling this path because this path is full of weeds and dangerous undergrowth. I find it cuts me deeply when I go in without looking or protecting myself. I'm looking for simple Barbie bandages to cover up the wounds that so openly bleed within my most insular home.
I really thought I/we took one for the team with the death of our son. Remember my law of probability and averages? I really thought we covered everyone from further future loss of our children in our family.
But I guess someone has other plans in store for us.
Friday, we bury another one of our clan. Another future extinguished.
April can go fuck itself.