I have been wanting to find the time and energy to sit down and write a new post for days now. But now that I have the opportunity, my mind is blank. I went back through my old posts and decided that I should write the next part of Chloe's story. I has been months since I wrote the first part, but I can't do that today. I don't know why. So I started thinking about all the things that came along with her death. All the emotions, all the hurt, all the inconsiderate things that people say. I started thinking about Chloe's older sister and what she went through. We have had a lot of kids in our community die this school year and I keep thinking about the siblings they left behind. When Chloe died, my oldest daughter was two and a half years old. A super smart kid. Very observant and very loyal to her sister. Chloe was HER baby. That is truly how she felt. When Chloe died, nobody had to tell Carissa....she already knew. She could feel it inside of her. She wasn't even at the hospital with us when it happened. I decided that she should be able to attend her sisters viewing and funeral. I thought it the right thing to do. It sucked to try to make a 2 1/2 year old understand death and I felt angry as I realized that some of my daughters innocence was being stripped away right before my eyes. At such a young age she was already learning how cold and unfair this life can be. The viewing and funeral went okay for her. Or so I thought. I will never forget one of the most heart wrenching experiences that I encountered after Chloe's funeral. It was probably a couple of weeks after. We had been visiting the cemetery daily and I though my daughter had done pretty well at grasping it all. She kept wanting to go get Chloe and I would patiently explain every day that we could not. That she was gone and going to get her was impossible. One day I was speaking with someone when really loudly and really angrily, Carissa informed this person that "MOMMY PUT CHLOE IN THE DIRT!!!" I was taken aback. I sat there stunned, with tears filling my eyes as I asked her what she meant. "YOU PUT CHLOE IN THE DIRT AND YOU LEFT HER THERE!" I tried explaining to her that we bury our dead, but she was two and there was no hope. She didn't get it. In her mind, this was all my fault. I had put Chloe in the dirt and left her there and refused to go get her. Carissa was ticked. And she remained mad at me for a long time. So now I had one daughter that was dead and one that was furious with me. Looking back on it, I can see that in her little mind she must have been wondering if I was going to put her in the dirt too. She was probably scared to do a single thing wrong for fear of what might have happened. I have never experienced such gut wrenching emotion as I did that year. Carissa eventually quit telling everyone that I left her sister in the dirt. What a relief the end of that phase was! I can honestly say that I thought I might have a breakdown every time I heard those words. I never wanted my baby to go in the dirt. Carissa is wise beyond her years and I know that is in part because her childhood didn't give her much time to be innocent and unburdened by the world. I still have my days of anger and sorrow that even words cannot accurately describe. My heart goes out to every child who has ever lost their sibling, their mother, or their father due to death. I know there is a grand plan. I just wish that I could see it.
I made a video of Chloe earlier this year. I can't post it here but I can share with you the link. Please feel free to watch it.
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10150700029472317
I won't leave it "public" forever, but I will for now.
Until next time.......
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