Losing A Loved One

Remember back in like 2006 (I think), the band Green Day came out with a song named “Wake Me Up When September Ends”? If I could create a remix, it would be called “Wake Me Up When August Ends”.

If you pay attention to lyrics of a song, then you know that this particular song was written for the lead singers father who passed away. Obviously, this is a tragic moment within life that no one wants to ever encounter. Yet when we do, we all have different outcomes of reactions, and maintain different things to overcome the pain and the hurt. But here’s a thought, do we all really get over the pain? Or do we all just learn how to live with it on a daily basis.

August 25, 2015 is the day where I feel my life took the spin for the worst. My Grammy who was just shy of her sixtieth birthday come November 2015, took her last breath. The woman who treated me as if I were her biological “grand-baby” was no longer here. She was one of the most kind hearted people I ever met. She was the one who always knew what to say, even if she didn’t feel as if it were the time to say it. She was the one who would let you lay your head in her lap and she’d rub your forehead until you fell asleep. It didn’t matter how old you were, she’d still do it out of love. I remember whenever I’d get in trouble with my parents, I’d call her and she’d “Grammy napped” me until the coast was clear and my parents either gave up or forgot why they were even mad in the first place.

I never got to say goodbye to her. When she passed away, I was diagnosed with Severe Pre- Eclampsia. I was admitted into the hospital with my blood pressure 190/110, I gained over 150 pounds of water weight, I couldn’t breathe in my sleep which was causing the oxygen to my son to cut into half. I was 35 weeks and 5 days when my son was welcomed into the world. A day after my beautiful angels funeral. I remember the day her funeral happened. Everyone sent flowers and angels to help guide me through my time being in the hospital because angels where her number one thing. She’d tell all of us kids that we all have guardian angels watching upon us in those crazy times of need to make sure we are all taken care of.

There was never a real dull moment in life when it came to her. I remember when I was about five, I was terrified of thunderstorms. I remember her coming to me and telling me to listen to the noises. Even though they sounded scary to me, I needed to know that it was just God and the Angels up in heaven bowling and that the water was all their tears from laughter and fun that they were sharing together. Looking back at those moments, I wish I was able to turn time backwards just to enjoy it again. Actually, all the time I wish I was able to drop everything and call her just so I could hear her laughter and being cooed with the same saying she always had ready for me; “everything will be okay Vic”.

I remember when I needed to go to a new location in order to train for work, so thankfully I stayed with her. In the car one day on the highway driving to work the song “I Hope You Dance” by Leeann Womack began playing. We ended up stopping everything and we just started singing the song on top of our lungs. Once the song was finished, she’d grab hand, give it a slight squeeze and thank me for being there with her to sing one of her favorite songs. I now how a tattoo of an angel kneeling down picking dandelions with the lyrics flying within the ones in the air.

Another favorite memory of mine is when we would always have our sleepovers. She always gave us kids whatever we wanted, including sugar. Sometimes she wouldn’t realize what she did until we’d be off the wall. I remember being so hyped up on sugar that in between laughs she’d ask if I knew how to stop talking and breathe for a few minutes. I never took it to heart because then we would start laughing all over again until one of us would be running to the bathroom. But not all the memories were like that. I remember the ones of us binge watching criminal minds, or her favorite Disney movie Hercules. She would sing every song on the top of her lungs. Some nights we would play card games, talk about everything under the sun and listen to The Dave Matthews Band or Phil Collins. Boy do I miss her smile.

Now here we are, unfortunately five years later. We’ve overcame five holiday seasons and birthdays without her. We’ve shared five long excruciating years of milestones, whether they were happy moments or upsetting ones.

Within these five years I didn’t have my safety net, my comfort zone. I gave birth to her very first great grand child, I went through a nasty break-up with my child’s father which resulted me moving back to my home town and becoming “homeless”. My own family weren’t even there for me in the time of need, so me being a mother I needed to make the hardest decision of my life and allow my child to live with his fathers mother for eight months, until I was physically on my own two feet, working two jobs and always on the move looking for an apartment. I finally met the man I’m spending my life with, I have become engaged, my son began talking after long hours of early intervention. I had two miscarriages, I was diagnosed with a rare auto immune disorder known as Scleroderma and Factor V Leiden (easy blood clotting). Not to mention I even lost one of my best friends to heroin. Everyone reading this probably thinks “you have to have someone you can talk too”, I do. Honestly, its not the same. I’m sure I’m not the only one who yearns for that one person to talk to when everything feels as if its at the end of the road.

Throughout these last five years, I can honestly say that for me the pain never went away. I’m just learning how to live with it on a daily basis.

I love you to the moon and back, times infinity.