Design Your Beautiful Life Coaching
|Posted on March 14, 2016 at 1:55 PM|
The van stops, I glance forward and realize I’m home. I know I need to go in, I need to tell them Daddy isn’t coming home. I feel so sick and my head is spinning, the thought of the pain my words will cause is crushing me. They absolutely adore their Daddy, he’s the tickle monster, the goofy voices and the silly faces that always brings a smile. He’s their caretaker and their hero. I force myself to move, opening the van door and starting towards the house. As I reach the steps my niece greets me and opens the door. She’s crying as she pulls me to her. I hug her but feel numb at this point and completely focused on what I know I need to do. I walk by everyone else only saying that I need to talk to the kids. Within moments they are with me and I’m smothered in wonderful hugs. I pick up the baby and hold her close as she squeezes me. I notice my eleven-year-old, Matthew, looking around, then Jeanne who’s eight. They see family has gathered in the two adjoining rooms are at the doorways of the living room where I sit with the children. They know something is wrong and so I find the courage to begin. “I have some sad news “I say softly as I watch each of their beautiful little faces turn to me. “Daddy went to Heaven this morning. He is with God and is not sick anymore. He’s going to watch over us from Heaven from now on.” At that Matthew lets out an inaudible scream and buries his head into his hands and Jeanne’s blue eyes fill with tears as she stares intently at me. Nicholas, my sweet six-year-old, who is now snuggled into my side begins to protest “Mommy, it’s not fair, God can’t have Daddy I still want him to live with me.” I pull them all closer as I respond, “me too hunny but we don’t get to choose”. Tears are streaming down my face now and I feel as if I’ve been hit by a mac truck. My heart is breaking seeing their pain and I wish so badly I could take it away. I wipe the tears from their faces and kiss their heads “You know I love you more than anything right? and that I’ll always take care of you.” Matthew falls into my arms sobbing then runs toward his room. Within moments Nicholas and Jeanne follow suit. I sit on the floor with Anna eyes closed, snuggling her to me for a moment as family members scatter to follow the other children. I feel so heavy; each movement seems to require so much more energy than ever before. I force myself to get up and I make my way to each of the children to offer more hugs and assurance that we are going to be ok. Finally, I reach by bedroom and sit empty on Derek’s side of the bed. I’m blank, numb…being anything else at this point is simply too painful.
Categories: A Journey Through Grief