The Storage Bucket

It has been 4330 days since she left this earth. 4330. That seems like a huge number! It will be 11 years come June. Today I am washing her clothes. It took me that long. I have pulled out her huge storage tub several times over the years but could never make myself rifle through it and pull out all the clothing. This is probably because I put the pillow she died on right on top. That was a dumb move. So every time I open the bucket, I see the blood splotched pillow and I just return the lid. Today, I picked up the pillow and sat it to the side. I pulled out each item of clothing, piece by piece, and slowly placed it in the washer. The smell of being stored away has long since replaced her smell. I didn't open the bag that contained the clothes that I sent her to the funeral home in. I will save that bag for another date. But everything that I managed to keep throughout my many moves is all tucked away in there. Stuffed animals, blankets, crib set, her lock of hair, a bible the hospital gave me when she died, and on and on. I don't even know why I am writing about this. I just felt the need to share it with someone. Or maybe document this step for myself. Who knows. I'm kind of crazy like that. Maybe it is because so many of my friends are in the newer stages of grief and I want to let them know that it is okay if it takes you many, many years to make a small step. Society is quick to judge us, thinking we should be over that by now or wondering what the big deal is. They don't know and I pray for their sake that they never will. But I am sick to death of the stigma that surrounds us. It is frequently said that the grief of bereaved parents is the most intense grief known. When a child dies, parents feel that a part of them has died, that a vital and core part of themselves has been ripped away. And it is true. So what if it took me over ten years to wash my daughter clothes? And why does it matter to you anyways? Are you upset because I am not "better" already? I will never be better. And you will probably never stop being uncomfortable. You don't want to be faced with the fact that if it happened to us, then it could happen to you too. You would like to remain in that world where all is good and safe and that children outlive their parents. We are a horrible reminder to you that life doesn't give anybody what is fair. I will always be Chloe's mom. She will always be my middle daughter. When people ask me how many times I have given birth, the answer will always be three. Let's say I just magically got over it...what would you think if I never mentioned my child's name again? If I just let the grief completely go? Would it make you feel better. Would you deem me as normal at that point? Because I am pretty sure that if I just magically got over it then I would be the farthest thing from normal. Whatever "normal" is. Us parents are on a long, sad journey that can be very frightening and extremely lonely- a journey that never really ends. I will say it again, there is no timetable for grief's duration; there are no rules, boundaries, or protocols for grieving. Each parent will almost always become a new and different person. This is not a bad or wrong thing. Parents never forget a child who dies. The bond they formed with their child extends beyond death. We are survivors and have been strong enough to endure what is probably life's harshest blow. Don't judge us. We know why you encourage us to get over the loss. Grief due to losing a child is so painful that you just want it to go away. If only it were that easy! This message (rant?) could go on forever but I should probably stop here. I'll leave you with a few quotes and try to quit going months between writings. Until next time.....

The sorrow for the dead is the only sorrow from which we refuse to be divorced. Every other wound we seek to heal, every other affliction to forget; but this wound we consider it a duty to keep open; this affliction we cherish and brood over in solitude. - WASHINGTON IRVING, THE SKETCH BOOK , IN MOFFAT 1992, 270

and....

Parental grief is boundless. It touches every aspect of [a] parent's being...When a baby dies, parents grieve for the rest of their lives. Their grief becomes part of them...As time passes, parents come to appreciate that grief is [their] link to the child, [their] grief keeps [them] connected to the child. - ARNOLD AND GEMMA, IN CORR ET AL. 1996, 50-51

and lastly....

There is a need to talk, without trying to give reasons. No reason is going to be acceptable when you hurt so much. A hug, the touch of a hand, expressions of concern, a willing listener were and still are the things that have helped the most...The people who [were] the greatest help... [were] not judgmental. It's most helpful when people understand that [what is needed] is to talk about it and that this is part of the grief process. - DEFRAIN ET AL. 1991, 158, 163