Katie’s birthday tribute 2018

A truth has been revealed to me. I AM KATIE’S MOM!

I became Katie’s mom 32 years ago today. I was her mom then and I am her mom now. When she died two years ago I didn’t realize I could still be her mom even though she is not here.  At that time I felt I had lost much of who I am. I lost my identity when I lost my daughter. My mother once described it as losing even more, she said, “losing Katie is like losing a big chunk of our own bodies, bigger than if we had lost an entire arm”.

It was recently pointed out to me that I am able to mother her still, not only while she was alive, but also in death. That is earth-shattering to me. I am not sure what that will look like, but I think since her death I have been mothering her by sharing her story. Her story did not die with her, it is up to me to share her life, her death; her effect on me and on you.

She taught us so much while she was living, and has taught us even more with her death. The lessons are the same. I learned about grace, perseverance, patience, and courage by watching her struggle with delayed milestones, bullies, ever-present hunger, and frustration. I am learning how to live with my new struggles. An example is how I have called upon her lessons to get me out of bed every morning. Once I decide that I must get out of bed, I put one foot on the floor, then attempt to get my other foot close to the floor. I’m still supine with my head on my pillow but bent at the waist to a near ninety degree angle (much like a broken Barbie doll chucked aside for a newer version) waiting for the strength to hoist my body upright, which I know I can do because I am a warrior! I am finding my new identity. I am a broken Barbie doll warrior. I am the teller of Katie’s story. I am Katie’s mom. I was her mom and I will be her mom until the day I die.

Today, I celebrate Katie’s birthday by becoming her mom once again. I’ve missed her.

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written: April 26, 2018. 32 years after Katie’s birth.

 

Wish!

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For more than half of my life as I blew out my candles, I only had one wish. I wished for Katie to no longer be hungry.This was my constant wish, not just for candle-blowing time.  Now she isn’t. My wish came true, not quite how I had imagined it would, but it came true. Tonight, at age 57 I needed a new wish. It came to me quickly. I wish everyone would have the opportunity to fully understand how much they are loved. It is a humbling feeling, one which will have you thanking your lucky stars, Almighty God, or your deity of choice. Every day since Katie died earlier this year, I have experienced love, care, and generosity from family, friends, neighbors, and almost strangers. There are so many people I have not yet thanked, so if you are reading this and have heard nothing from me, please know I am eternally grateful for whatever you did or provided for me. The magnitude of the love is overwhelming and inconceivable. It is also completely palpable. Grief is the hardest thing I have ever done. I was completely unprepared for grief. I have often stated, and still believe I have been in mourning since Katie’s birth. I mourned the child I expected her to be, the child I had planned on having and raising. She wasn’t who I was anticipating. That form of mourning did not prepare me for the slap in the face, punch in the gut mourning in which I am currently engulfed. I vividly remember the lecture and book by Kubler-Ross, but I don’t remember ever once being told how physical the grieving would be. I know I was never told that somebody who loves me would do my laundry or dishes or carry my purse and open my doors because I simply have no strength. Often I feel like a pile of tar in the middle of a Disney World parking lot on a 110 degree day. The Disney World reference is intentional, because I often think the rest of the world is running on Disney happy place steroids…..while I am the tar. People have been able to temporarily love me out of the tar state. Love has been made visible to me. I don’t wish the death of your child or any other calamity which might be the opportunity for you to realize the depth of love others have for you, so instead I wish you would be open to love whenever it knocks on your heart. Watch for love. Recognize love. Accept love. This I know…wishes come true. Allow yourself to be loved. Allow others to love you. It is, after all, my birthday wish.