And now the blog for today

Colorado was weird. I used to tell the girls that it would.be easier for me to leave my left leg home when I went on vacation than for me to leave them behind. Colorado was just that hard. Everywhere I looked, Katie wasn't. There were only four girls in the photos, not five. And it made me extremely sad. 

I put on a good front, mostly. I fell apart only when I was out to dinner with Cheryl and Laure. Falling apart in public after one margarita. I shouldn't drink.  (If you're happy and you drink, you're a happy drunk. If you're angry when you drink, you're an angry drunk.  If you're sad and you drink...  I just shouldn't drink.) It's hard enough to keep my shit together if I'm sober. 

Now I still feel hung over emotionally. So much so that I couldn't trust myself to volunteer today. Or go to the office. It's a work from home today, which isn't Monday unusual. Just the fact that I'm so damn emotional. 

I'm back in counseling. It hurts. It's necessary, but it hurts. Compassionate Friends meet tonight. It's an awful thing to have to do. Katie's probate had the initial hearing today. I'm officially a co-administrator of my daughters estate now. Sucky sucky sucky. 

I worked the German Immersion School booth a at GermanFest on Friday. I saw many people that I knew and many parents, grandparents, and friends of Katie's classmates. And those that know asked how I am. And one even asked how the accident happened. But everyone else didn't know, so I just told them to tell their (insert relation classmate here) that Katie's Mom said hello. 

Colorado sunset

For some reason this didn't post.

I'm missing Katie in Colorado, but here's a photo. You've got to know the set up of it. It's at sunset, but the photo is taken facing east, not west. I'm not sure how you get a fantastic sunset picture facing east, unless it's Katie. 

Hurt. Fragile.

Today is a hard day for Joe. The Fourth of July has always been his holiday with the girls. It has been many years since the girls were both with me on the Fourth. Last year I had Libby only, and that was the first year ever the girls had been separated on the Fourth. I know he's hurting. And Libby is hurting. I'm hurting, too, but it's my everyday hurt, not my holiday hurt. 

Kind of like the old saw about having 50 words for snow.  I have a jillion kinds of pain. 

I can't even begin to catalog, but I'm going to start. 

Everyday hurt (the constant grind of pain for thinking about everything from eating a sweet mango that she loved to taking out the trash that she hated)

Holiday hurt (that extra-boosted painful reminder that she's not decorating the tree or sitting at the table or hiding the eggs or any other myriad things)

Happy memory hurt (a beautiful memory we shared or a happy one that has happened since, but which is marred because she wasn't there)

Sad memory hurt (remembering the funeral or when I saw her after her death, even the love and support that I wish I hadn't needed)

Lonely hurt (just flat missing my baby)

Mama moment hurt (only a mama would get the moment, also when listening to another mama talk about a proud mama moment that I missed or will miss with Katie)

Kind words hurt (when an unexpected kindness catches me off guard and makes me cry)

Those are more productive, I guess. I don't have a better word right now for that. It means I'm processing. At least I hope that's what it means as I sit here and weep. 

Then there is the bad hurt:

The stupid words hurt ("she's in a better place" "God has called her home" and the like. Well meaning, just stupid.)

Guilt hurt (if only I had..., this wouldn't have happened)

Regret hurt (I just wish I had done X with Katie before...)

Thankfully there are more things listed in the former than the latter. Man, though, those latter one can pack a wallop and get you down for days. 

I have such lovely friends who are so intuitive, knowing what I need before I need it, but I feel like I need to share these with a larger audience. So that some other mother some other place can show this to her support system and know that someone else has written down a list of what she needs. 

I don't even know what I'm asking for here. 

I need you to make sure I'm okay on the holidays, especially the ones on no religious or government calendar.  

I need you to still acknowledge my love and pain and loss. 

I need you to still remember Katie crying or laughing. Always remember my girl. Always. 

And you should always share your child and your child's joys with me.  Just also remember that these also bring an edge of pain for me, so be gentle. 

I told Joe a couple of nights ago that when making choices between the feelings of his emotionally stable family and Libby that he always needs to err on her side of the fragile one. 

That's probably the most important piece. Remember the fragile ones. 

Yet another thing for which I don't have the answer.

Libby is with her dad this week. She's down at the house that she associates with Katie, the property on which Katie died. And she's sad and lonely, and she feels like no one gets it. And she wants to come home. 

I'm here. 850 miles away. I can't fix it. If ever I wished for Star Trek technology it's now. 

(Goddamn it, Jim! The teleporter is not working.)

All I can do from afar is to try to mediate the distance between a hurting thirteen-year-old girl in all of her awkward glory and her equally hurting dad who has never been a thirteen-year-old girl. 

All I want to do is rock my baby and hold her when she cries. Really both my babies, but my earth baby is hurting more than my angel baby. 

I just had to take some time and explain to Joe some of what she's feeling so that he can grasp a small bit of it. God bless the fathers of girls. They sincerely don't have a clue when they're blindsided by emotion they've never even heard of before now. And God bless Joe because his load is that much heavier now. 

(I'm still mad at God. Don't take my God blessing and God damning as a change.)

I need peace and serenity to say and do the right things. The only thing going for me at this point is that my understanding is that there is no right answer because there is no wrong answer. As long as I do things out of love, things should turn out okay.  

I just need to hold on for one more day (and then one more day, and then....)