Storm Warning!
Let me start off by saying, I love a good rainstorm! Some of my favorite days and best memories are days with my parents, grandparents, brother, kids I kept, my little girl, my niece and nephew and cousins, just dancing in the rain or simply watching the rain and clouds pass over. Sweet front porch sitting, one of Lucy’s and my niece and nephew’s favorite activities when they were little 😊
Tornados… Hurricanes… these come with the wonderful place I call home. I have watched and lived through many.
Loss is always a part of storms and the news coverage and stories afterwards.
In 2018, there were two hurricanes that hit, Florence and Michael. And I was suddenly hit with “secondary losses” that would accompany the “primary loss” of Lucy running ahead of me into Jesus’ arms.
If you are unfamiliar with this term, “secondary loss,” let me give a brief explanation. For Lucy and I, some of these losses would be her crawling, first steps, talking, completely sitting up on her own (she was almost there!). They are the experiences, the daily happenings, the moments that fly past us that we all tend to take for granted, and that I will never have the chance to have with her.
Allow me to sort of set the scene: First, a key detail is that a good bit of land, adjacent to our home/land, that had been all woods all my life, was being developed quickly for a new neighborhood. The two times we had to be away for multiple days with Lucy, we came back to less trees and more power lines above ground, rather than underground. Second, we had just celebrated Lucy’s life with a celebration at our home, with crafts and Chick-fil-A, of course! And we were recovering emotionally as best we could. I was still in a state of the world spinning around me and I was just trying to get my balance to stand on two feet. Have you ever noticed how fast the world moves, when your life needs to standstill? I was functioning, but bare minimum was my absolute best.
And then WARNING! WARNING! Hurricane on its way! Granted this is not a shocking thing to happen this time of year where I live, but I felt like I just went through a physical, mental, emotional hurricane. No matter what the storm was coming. And I had no clue the coming inner storm that was about to make its debut.
I had a small bitter foretaste the night I had to lay her in the moses basket in the funeral car and watch it drive away. I stepped into the house before my parents came back inside, and the silence, the complete quiet, sent chills up and down my spine, and I began to weep without making a sound. But this was only as taste of what was to come…
The fact that now most of our power lines were above ground, we lost power when any little thing happened. I can remember maybe two or three times between the ages of baby and thirty that we lost power for more than a couple hours. It’s just how the land and the power grid was laid out. However, when they decided to dig everything up and place it above ground, we would lose power constantly. Usually, an hour to three or four hours because of construction.
When the hurricane came… it knocked us out for days! Both times! The second one we got smart and got a hotel room and had my niece and nephew come play 😊
We weren’t so creative the first time. The crushing quiet was devastating. What was here over two months ago, now gone. The changing table, play mat, her chair by the window, her toys, the smells of diapers and cream and baby, the sounds of her attempting to make a noise, her playing, her cry… complete silence. No baby food. No bottles. No pitter patters on the floor. No pacis to pick up. Agonizing silence.
I tried puzzles, they were something to do. Although I would think, “oh I should tell or write about this for Lucy, about when…”, because I love doing the ones that are themed “toys I had” “candy I ate” “1990s” etc. Only to remember she wasn’t taking a nap with my mom or laying/playing beside me.
I’ve always loved being home, the sound of a fan, sound of rain, and even the sounds of a storm. I don’t mind being by myself. And I don’t mind things being quiet.
I’m told I have a weird amount of tolerance for baby/children’s music and toy noises. And I will admit they don’t bug me like they seem to for other people. My ears and my brain are sensitive to any crying child or baby- I hear them all. This may be the result of keeping many kids at the park, but I think I have always been wired this way.
I love anything and everything to do with children- books, furniture, décor, tv, toys, movies, apps, health, growth, keeping up with what’s new in their lives and culture. But none of these things can fill the silence and the longing for my girl to be back in my arms. Her life most definitely compels me to press on in the advocacy for children. Spreading the news about resources I find and gathering the truth and facts to bring to you all.
The secondary loss that comes with silence is so much bigger than lack of noise. There is a silence that is daily, and harder to swallow. Can you guess? The silence that cuts and wounds daily, is not hearing others remember to say their name. Choosing silence, either because you are uncomfortable or you believe it will cause us to cry or hurt, is deafening. If I ask how your children are and what they are up to, do you think I have completely forgotten that mine could be doing the same things? But instead, I am imagining what it would be like, as I am enjoying watching your children grow and become who they are meant to be. We just ask that every once and a while to say their name, so we know someone remembers they existed, and they matter. This simple act makes the silence in the storm warnings a bit lighter and easier to breathe through the tears.
And these storm warnings were preparing me for an even longer silence… COVID… with hardly any evidence of children or their noises!
Book of the Week: The ABCs of Grief, by Jessica Correnti, MS, CCLS (Certified Child Life Specialist)
https://www.kidsgriefsupport.com
