Going back

Everything that we did over the first few days after her death was for her was out of love. Out of what we thought she would want. We wanted everything to be perfect. We tried to think about how you would want things. James handled almost everything because I was barely holding onto life myself. I threw out ideas every once in a while when I could speak.  In lieu of flowers, we wanted to get a Penguin Plague and adopt a Penguin at the KC Zoo. We have Cinderella the Gentou Penguin that was adopted for us and we are still in the process of working on it. We set up an account for Sara at U.S. Bank to collect donations to make that happen and to remember her. We have had a lot of people who have been very generous with love and support. The account will remain open and active collecting donations in her name. We hope to get a penguin plague and if there is money left over then we want to do something at the Tennessee aquarium that she loved so much. We have had random donations come in. As little or as much that comes in, it’s amazing that her story touches lives of people who don’t know us.  When I think of Sara all I could think of was this happy little girl who likes to be goofy and be silly. So we wanted to celebrate her life. That was our mission for her. We didn’t want to do a full funeral as that was not who she was. Choice after choice we made it through from Obit to cupcakes to cremation…We were like the 4 horsemen without the horses. We were strong united but we were shards of shrapnel holding each other up. Just as we always were, we were all gathered united as one and whatever was best for Sara.  Part of losing someone like we did meant, going back to the last place that I saw your face.

Sara's last moments were spent in my house. Sara's last breathe was in my house. How could I go back to the place that took it all away? I wanted to blow the house up. I wanted to lite a match and watch it burn like the fire inside my heart. It was in an instant that I went from "I can't be in that house...sell it...blow it up...light it on fire to if anyone walked towards the house, I was like the Predator. I had to protect her one last time. I would be the only one to see what I saw. I would be the only one to carry that burden. NO one else would have to or be allowed to. I became crazed. One of the many many levels to grief. You never know what things may cross your mind at any given time.

I insisted that I was going back to the house and no one was going to stop me. I needed to feel close to her. I needed to see if she was still in the house to see if I could save her. I knew that she wasn't. I knew exactly where she was. Against everyone's opinions and suggestions, I went back to the house. My nightmare couldn’t be any worse. My reality was already the unimaginable. As I walked into the house, I could feel that this moment right then was how this was going to feel forever. That this hole in my heart was never going away. That this state will never be what it was. I repeated my exact steps that I did that Thursday. I walked upstairs, put the mail on the stove, walked down the dark hallway, and stopped. I looked in her room. Everything seemed like normal. Bed a mess, clothes on the floor, cats cuddled up, house calm and quiet. Just a normal day my mind wondered just for a moment. Just maybe if I stay in this moment long enough, it will be real. Just maybe when I open my eyes, she will be there….just maybe…

I made my choice to go back to the last place I saw your face. That was my choice and that is what I needed. While I am not sure if it helped me, it didn’t hurt me anymore than I was already hurting.  She made a Tsunami in our world but “She didn't suffer.” Those are the only words out of five days that I can hear clear in my head over and over. "She didn't suffer" In my moment of total loss, the detective gave me something no one else could do. He gave me something to hold onto. Terrible things go through your mind when there are no signs that there Sara's was struggling. We will never know what her struggles were only that she didn’t speak up and let them be heard.  All I could think of was, my baby had an accident and suffered while I was at work. The detective was kind and those are the only words I can 100% say that I remember for 5 days. The entire first night all I could do was blame myself and want to die with her. I couldn’t see how I could let this happen. I prayed and prayed that it was an accident. I prayed that I would die and be with you. I asked God why so many times, I am sure that he was tired of me screaming at him. I begged him to take me instead. As a parent, you would sell your soul to Satan to get your child back…if only that was an option.  As you find yourself going from one level of crazy to another, you find yourself completely out of control. Your emotions, your anger, your own mind at times play tricks on you. While others may not have made the same choice I did, my hell was already as bad as it could be what else did I have to lose. I laid where you laid. I prayed and I prayed and I cried. My heart was already broken and I had nothing else to give.

As we still stay in our house and in our room, I find comfort if that is a good word. Sometimes it makes me sad and sometimes I feel like it’s the only connection that I have to her. Sometimes all I want to do is be with her. I am not sure what the right answer was but the right answer for us was to stay in our house. Everyone is different and every moment is different. Some days all I want to do is run home to her room and other days the fear keeps me from going inside the house.  It’s a constant battle inside mixed up with all of the other emotions of losing someone you love. Every day getting farther and farther from the last day I saw her face.