My Mom is a survivor, or so I've heard it said.
But I hear her crying at night when all others are in bed.
I watch her lay awake at night and go to hold her hand.
She doesn't know I'm with her to help her understand.
But like the sands on the beach that never wash away...
I watch over my surviving mom, who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others...a smile of disguise.
But through Heaven's door I see tears flowing from her eyes.
My mom tries to cope with death to keep my memory alive.
But anyone who knows her knows it is her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving mom...through Heaven's open door.
I try to tell her that angels protect me forever more.
But I know that doesn't help her or ease the burden she bears.
So if you get a chance, go visit her...And show her that you care.
For no matter what she says...no matter what she feels.
My surviving mom has a broken heart that time won't ever heal~
Paul and I have been having a rough time the past week or so. Facing the fact, the harsh reality of life without both Carly and Brad has been tough the last several days. This whole grieving thing, it isn't getting any easier for either of us and some days, it's nearly unbearable.
As March rolls in, our fears of Carly's approaching 2yr angel anniversary are becoming crystal clear. It's pretty scary for us. We can't believe we are coming up on the 2yr mark. And we can't believe that we've lost another child during that time. We are living a real, live, freaking nightmare.
They say, whoever they are...the experts on grief, I guess. Anyway, they say the 2nd year is the hardest to get through ~ during the grieving process, of a lifetime. We wouldn't know. Because during that time, we lost our son, Brad. Grieving 2 kids is hard. Very hard. We've been so numb over losing Brad that we haven't been able to hit the 2yr grieving mark for Carly. They, say the 2nd year of the grieving process is a huge hurdle to clear..it's suppose to be the very hardest part of this gut wrenching journey. But, it's important because..supposedly, when you get through the 2 year mark, things start getting more bearable. Not easier, just a bit more bearable because all of the "firsts" are over with..behind you. Such as; the first Christmas, birthday or any other special day.
We keep pushing forward and we're trying so hard to survive, but it's the hardest thing we've ever done in our lives. You can't imagine how hard it is for us to get up each morning, and just function. I'm home all day. Paul goes to work each day. We talk to each other several times a day and I can hear the life just draining out of his voice. He is in such awful shape. I worry about him all day long. He cries nearly all the time. Yes, he's on med's, (we both are) but in all honesty, med's don't heal a broken heart. A broken heart, times two.
Ashleigh is the only reason that Paul and I can face each day. She gives us the will to go on with our lives. It's really hard to have her 800 miles away from us right now, but at least we can talk to her whenever we want. Paul and I worry about her every single day. How that girl continues to move forward with her life is beyond me. She has such strength and determination. Despite the fact that she has lost both of her siblings. I'd have to say, she's pretty darn amazing. I feel so terrible though, because she "parents" us every now and then. Not kidding. It's like a role reversal. She sees us hanging at the end of our rope and she pulls us back in.
Surviving, is an awful hard job.