Obsessed

I am OBSESSED with Downton Abbey.  And not just because I love the name of the show (insert winky face ;)).  I started watching it on the plane to Israel (I think they had the first three episodes) and then came home desperate to see what was going to happen next.

I couldn't find it on Netflix, even though I know that it was streaming there at one point.  I know this because Ted and I had watched the first episode months before and hadn't been able to get into it (something that sounds completely ludicrous to me now).  I figured out that I could watch really fuzzy episodes on youtube - the pirated kind where I think someone records their tv screen with their phone and then posts it.  Those episodes were impossible to find and almost more impossible to watch.

I was about to give up streaming them until I figured out that I could watch them with my Amazon Prime account!  Praise the lord!  I watched the first three seasons back to back during any free moment I could find, only to get to Season Four and find out that Amazon wasn't streaming that one.  And if you know what happens at the end of Season three - you KNOW why I needed to get my hands on Season four immediately!

So I finally sat down at the computer and reorganized our Netflix DVD queue and threw all of the upcoming episodes, in order, up to the top (something Ted is extremely pleased about, I am sure).

I know you might be wondering why I am telling you all this because why the heck do I think you care about my latest television obsession? (Although, not that having no reason at all to tell you about my tv addiction has ever stopped me before).  But, here is the thing: a lot of people die on Downton Abbey.  In fact, the most important, loved and pivotal characters die - young and tragically.  Two of the main characters on the show are, by Season Four, bereaved mothers (and I think there are enough characters that I am not being a "spoiler" by telling you this).  And, while I think there are imperfections with their depiction of the grieving process - I'd say that it gets much closer than most anything else I've seen.  And the writing!  They way these characters express my thoughts!  It's (dare I say) Magical.  I recognize and relate to the anger, the jealousy, the complete paralysis, and the inability to look past one's own grief.  I am more consumed with those stories than I am with the love stories (and those are pretty good too).  I think about them all of the time - wondering how the writers are going to write the next stage of grief - praying that they won't let any of the grievers move on too quickly - hoping that they will recognize all of the right triggers that would set off someone who was really in grief.  It will never be perfect, because it is still fiction, but they do a pretty good job.

It seems that still, after almost three years without Max, I am searching for connections with the ways other people deal with death and grief - it's even good enough for me when the most authenticity I can find is in fictional characters.  The "problems" of non aggrieved characters fall flat for me.  In fact, it's hard to believe, but I haven't chosen a romantic comedy in ages.  It's not that I won't watch anything else, you know I will....but I definitely prefer content that includes deep grief, post traumatic stress and complete upheaval.

A few brilliant Downton Abbey quotes that really sum it up for me and have left me in puddles of my own tears:

"You see, when your only child dies, then you're not a mother anymore. You're not anything really. And that's what I'm trying to get used to."

"“…but you see I have this feeling that when I laugh or read a book or hum a tune, that it means that I’ve forgotten him, just for a moment and it’s that, that I cannot bear.”

"When one loses a child, is it really ever over?"

"I’m not unhappy. I’m just not quite ready to be happy."

"You are being tested. And you know what they say, my darling -- being tested only makes you stronger."

"This tragedy will either make or break your marriage. Hold each other tight and never take one another for granted."
 

Conflicted

I've been feeling very conflicting lately about my blog. I fear that by writing about our experience and our profound sense of loss and horror, that I've somehow cheapened the experience or commoditized Maxie's brief life. I worry that I somehow threw Maxie's death into a bucket with all of the other disappointing and upsetting things that happen in life, where I meant to set it apart. What I've meant to say is that Maxie's life was more precious to me than even my own and that any thing that could ever happen to ME would pale in comparison to what happened to HIM.

My life's disappointments before and since losing Maxie don't add up to even a small pile compared to the mountain that is his loss of life. They are the things that happen to us all because sadly, life is messy. What happened to our lives the day that Maxie stopped breathing goes so far beyond "messy".  But, words are inadequate.  Woefully inadequate.

Because there is no explaining & there is no imagining, there is no way to verbally elevate the loss of our son to the degree at which it stands - "outshining" all of the awful and horrific happenings I could have ever imagined happening to me, anyone I love, or to the little boy - the person - who meant more to us than anyone ever had before.  I feel almost embarrassed that I've even tried to explain it and I am not really sure what to do moving forward.

Superstorm

I was watching Anderson Cooper earlier this week talking about how inappropriate he felt it was for celebrities to be throwing extravagant Halloween parties in the wake of Superstorm Sandy.  "Don't they know that the entire East Coast is without electricity?", he said...as if to say: How dare they celebrate while we are sitting here in the dark!  I am sure LOTS of people could identify with this feeling of "How can the world keep on spinning?".... and "Don't they know we are suffering?".

I couldn't help but think of the millions of people worldwide who live without electricity every single day and those who suffered MUCH MUCH greater things than a loss of power in the aftermath of Sandy.  I was feeling a little incensed myself watching a segment on the Today show (or the like) about how to entertain your family while the power is down -  examples included: play boardgames, make conversation about important issues - like the environment.  Barf.  Do people really need a superstorm to figure out how to talk to each other?  And, in my estimation - not being able to plug in your ipad is far less worrisome than having ones house under water.

There has also been this sensationalized report about the mother whose two children drowned because a neighbor wouldn't let them inside his house.  Oh my god!  It is too effing much to bear.  I feel my heart in my throat.  It's so unbelievable.  She's been too upset to comment so far.  Um, you think?  She's probably wondering how she will go on living.  I am sure she can't even imagine a reason at this stage.  I keep wondering how long it will be before someone tells her it's ok because she can have more children or that they are in a better place.  Surely, friends have already told her that they will go home and hug their own kids tighter after hearing her story (then, presumably, they will play parcheesi and talk about deforestation).

The fact is - the world DOES keep spinning even though the worst you can imagine has happened.  People will keep throwing parties and celebrating.  Pretty soon, people will probably start making the sick humored jokes about the storm and throwing "The storm is over" parties.  They will even try to convince you to join in the party, wondering out loud why you wouldn't want to raise a glass to toast the event.  The fact is that in every story, there are real live people who are suffering, who have lost unfathomably, who don't want to join the celebration..... because they just need to try and figure out how to get through the next minute of their life.

Advice from a friend

I have been wanting to talk to my new friend Molly (who lost her beautiful daughter Lucy 4 1/2 years ago) for months now.  I keep texting her and calling her - like a complete stalker.  I finally got her on the phone yesterday and had no idea what I even wanted to say to her.  I think I just wanted to be reminded that someone who I really like, who is funny and fun and wonderful, has gone through....is going through what we are going through - pain, loss, heartbreak, devastation.  Or, like I told her, maybe I just have a "girl crush" on her.

We talked for a while, while both of our new babies napped (her Zoe is 4 1/2 months old).  She gave me some good advice that she has learned through trial and error.  My BIGGEST question for all bereaved parents is what they say to people who ask how many kids they have.  I know that I will never ever deny Max, but how exactly do I say it?  I have asked practically every bereaved parent I know.  They tell me "Oh, I tell everyone who asks" and then I say, "What are the exact words you use?" because it is all too terrible to even say out loud.  I have heard all sorts of answers.  People always tell me to just say that Max is dead - "Screw people if they can't handle it," they tell me, "you have to handle it every minute of every day".  Agreed.  On the one hand.  On the other hand, even I would like benign conversation once in a while.  When people ask me, they don't really care....and I also don't really care to share Max, my love, with someone who is just asking to ask. I end up sharing my deepest pain with a complete stranger, which is just too ironic since I am hardly ever asked to share it with people who I have known most of my life.  Lately I have just been saying, "We just celebrated my oldest son's second birthday", because we did.  I am not not disclosing the whole story to be kind to the person I am talking to (by not ruining their day and telling them about Max)...I am being kind to me.  If they say, "Does he like being a big brother?", I can say, "I think he really does."...because I think he really does.  

Molly told me that when she is meeting a new person, she doesn't tell them right away.  She gets to know them first and lets them get to know her.  She finds that when she does that, and they later find out what happened to Lucy, they are softer with her...because they already love her.  I don't want to be defined as "that woman whose baby died".  I don't want to be scary.  Sheesh, if I have friends and family that are scared of me because Max died, just imagine what it is going to be like for me when I start meeting new people.  I don't want Max or me to be defined by his death (though I know and want it to be part of our definition).  I would rather be (mostly) defined by his life, which was amazing and beautiful and the most wonderful thing that ever happened to me.  I want HIM to be defined by his life - which should still be happening now...because he was only a baby.

I cried and told her how mad I am, how sad I am, how deep this hole is.  She agreed....it is deep.  "I promise it gets easier", she said.  I've heard it before.  I know it is true.  It feels so shitty to know it gets easier.  Of COURSE I want it to get easier...but, on the other hand, do I really want the death of my child to get easier?  Ugh.  Again - Ugh. Double UGH!  

I got off the phone with her with Mo woke up from his nap and I then sent her an email thanking for the chat..  I checked my email a little while later and received the most beautiful return email from her:


It does help to talk to someone in our same club. There is no substitute for that--that's for sure. And I didn't feel one bit that you had vague questions or what have you. I hope I helped in some way. 

I wanted to send an email anyway to recap some of what we talked about and give you some assignments. :)

Ok--

1. Listen to Eckhart Tolle (A New Earth and The Power of Now). His voice takes a bit to get used to but his teachings REALLY resonate with me and have helped me greatly. 

2. Give people the benefit of the doubt. They are learning about grief and honesty and pain and communication and human interaction and love like we are. Our words are woefully inadequate to express the deepest feelings of our souls. Luckily, we'll communicate spirit to spirit in the next life. 

3. Breathe. Be easy on yourself, like you said. Treasure your little Mo and honor your little Max through enjoying the moment. 

4. Let yourself be angry. Let yourself feel whatever you are feeling. There is no "should". All things will pass and cycle through. 

5. Pray. Just talk outloud to God and tell him whatever you are feeling. Ask him for strength or whatever it is you need. Clarity, patience, your mind and heart to be opened to learned and personal revelation for you and your life. 

I don't know. After Lucy died I needed people to tell me what to do. My frontal cortex, where we make our decisions, was shot to hell with the trauma. So now I'm telling you a few things to do...because I love you and want you to find peace. 

I asked her if it was ok to share her email with you all because 1) I think it is helpful for other bereaved parents and because 2) I want you to know how wonderful Molly is.

Before Lucy died, Molly was starring in the lead role of a local theater production of Peter Pan.  Lucy went to see it many times and loved seeing her momma flying around the room.  She carried around a Peter Pan doll.  When I picture Lucy, I picture her hugging that little doll as I have seen her do in so many pictures.  Her mommy was her hero.  Her mommy is mine too.

A comforting change of scenery

I went away all weekend with my mom and my Auntie Alison.  Part of me hesitates to tell you where I've been, even though I am not really embarrassed.  In fact, it was a really moving and inspirational weekend.  So much more than I ever thought it would be.  I was at a gathering in Phoenix of several hundred bereaved individuals - many who had lost spouses, parents and mostly children.  People just like me who were searching for answers, looking for comfort and wanting to make a connection - to our loved ones, to other people like ourselves.  I halfway expected a group of really new agey, kind of "out there", flakey space-cadets who I would have nothing in common with.  Instead, I met people from all walks of life.  People who are very intelligent, from varied religious and cultural background, from all over the US and Canada.  I connected to a lot of wonderful people.  We met over meals, in workshops, in between presentations.  Where did we go, you ask?  Well, we went to the International Afterlife Communication Conference and I am so glad we did.

Now, I fully understand that the subject is taboo.  I get it that it goes against your religious beliefs (though, those of you with the strongest beliefs DO believe in an afterlife, so I am not quite sure I get it).  But, it doesn't really matter what you believe in and I am certainly not going to try and convert you because I don't know what I believe in.  I am a skeptic, to the core....wish I wasn't actually.  It would probably calm my spirit if I could stop questioning.  In fact, the conference was filled with skeptics.  If we just believed - we wouldn't have been there.  You think I am going to tell you wild stories of messages from beyond but what I am really going to tell you is that when you have lost a child, you have to believe in something.  You have to believe that you will be with that child again.  And, whether it is Buddhism, or Judaism or Christianity that gives you that hope and comfort shouldn't really matter (that is my opinion obviously but I will tell you, there were many religions represented in the room).  What matters to us is that we continue to be parents to the person or people (because there were parents there who lost more than one child) whom we love the most.  Sadly, there were people there who had been ostracized by their religious communities for seeking to connect to their children.  I can tell you that I would sacrifice every friend and family member I have for the opportunity to connect with Max again.  It's simple.  He is my whole heart and soul and I know every other parent there feels exactly as I do.

Hands down, the greatest part of this weekend was meeting other bereaved parents.  It felt different than the grief groups that Ted and I have attended as well.  I think it was because it was a whole weekend.  In a grief group meeting, you generally go around the room with a set agenda.  First each individual or couple introduces themselves and tells the story of their child's death.  Then, if there is time, there is usually a topic of discussion.  I am not saying it isn't helpful.  It is always wonderful to connect with other parents experiencing loss.  But, it takes several months to start making real connections.  At this conference, we shared meals, we sat in on sessions together, we watched people get really accurate affirmations of their loved ones presence in their lives and then we connected.  We connected over coffees in the lobby, over lunches on the back patio, at the vendors tables, during dinner.  We learned the stories about how each of us lost our children, but we also learned about each other and got to know more about the children and who they were before they died.  Our children are not just the stories of their passing - they are the beautiful people who made us smile and filled our hearts and homes with love before they passed.

Now, I am not going to pretend like there weren't some unusual characters there.  When the three of us signed up, we thought - if nothing else, it is sure to be great people watching.  There were some interactions that I will be laughing about for a long time.  When we first arrived and went to register, a wild eyed woman stopped us at the entrance to the conference area and desperately asked us where the popcorn and margaritas were.  She looked frantic.  She as wearing flowing new age gear, her hair was untamed, and she was right in our faces.  "Pardon?", one of us asked.  "I really could go for some popcorn and margaritas", she replied.  "Who couldn't?", we replied and then kept walking, all three of us working hard to suppress the laughter bubbling inside.  I guess this is what I signed up for, I thought.  We then got into an elevator with a group of people wearing tags from the event and asked them how things were going (we skipped the first optional day), "We just came from a session where we were all taken into a past life regression", one man replied.  When we got to our room, I thought, this will be interesting....but I never expected to find so much comfort.  The comfort really came from the attendees, most of whom were not wild eyed, new agey, flowy clothed or unusual at all.  Most attendees were just like me, people whose normal lives had been devastated by loss and who are living in the midst of deep grief.

For the first time in nine months, my story didn't repel people.  It drew them to me and I was drawn to them as well.  I met so many lovely people who felt rejected by their communities because their child was murdered or died by suicide or because they hadn't "gotten over it yet".  When someone spoke about her beautiful daughter who was murdered, I wanted to hold her hand and tell her how unfair it was.  We met the sweetest family who lost their 14 year old son to an impulsive suicide (he got caught doing something "bad" and didn't want to get in trouble).  Their pain was so palpable...I can't get them out of my mind.  The mom shared her son's photos and he was darling.  She described him as such a loving child too.  My heart is so broken for our loss of Maxie but it breaks every time I meet someone else who has to live with this pain.

Our very best session had nothing to do with the afterlife at all....it was a session on surviving grief.  The facilitator, Glenda Pearson, has lost a son herself and though she has a lot of work left to do (because all bereaved parents do), she has come up with useful tools to cope.  The environment was safe and loving.  She started off by having us make a list of hurtful things people say to us.  Do you know how many of the things I have shared were on the list?  All of them: -You can always have more children (or the spousal loss equivalent - you are young, you can always remarry).
- Aren't you over this yet?
- He is in a better place
Etc...  Our facilitator had come up with some good "come backs" over time.  I need to get more from her but the one she mentioned was her come back for "Aren't you over this yet?"....her response is, "I would be if it was your child."  Ouch.  I wonder if I would be strong enough to hurt someone so deliberately with that one (it did make me laugh).  It wouldn't hurt them any less than their comment hurts me - they just refuse to acknowledge that their comment is hurtful.

I know that there are some of you who are actually interested in the afterlife stuff that impressed us.  It WAS impressive.  There were mediums and psychics and grief counselors, people who have had Near Death Experiences and have received afterlife communications. There were also many doctors neurosurgeons and cardiologists - individuals whose science backgrounds kept them skeptical but whose real-life experiences with patients wouldn't allow them to ignore the possibilities.  Hands down the most amazing person at the whole conference was a well-known medium named John Holland.  Have you ever watched a famous medium on television pick out random people from the audience and then wondered if they were planted?  I have.  Holland read in front of the group of about 300 people twice over the weekend.  He knew details that he didn't glean from conversations.  In fact, he was very shy and hardly interacted with anyone other than the organizers while he was there.  But, he would start talking to someone and know everything about their lives.  He knew about a woman's husband who had lost half of each of his feet to diabetes - that this man drove a Lincoln, smoked a cigar, had given her a ridiculously large diamond, had special swimming flippers made for him.  There is no way he "cold read" her.  She looked like a normal middle class older woman.  She was sitting at the back corner of the ballroom.  He picked out a couple who had lost an eight year old boy - he knew that the boy had been cremated, that he died at the same time as his grandpa (in a car accident), that the urn was in his room and surrounded by toy soldiers and that he had drawn pictures all over the bottom part of the walls that were still there.  He knew that the father had torn a rotator cuff.  This was not a visible injury and it was one that had mostly healed.  They were so obviously astounded by what they heard and confirmed it all to be accurate. I could actually go on and on.  He just knew.  I sat with some of the folks who were read by him and they couldn't believe what they had heard.  They were people like me, who wanted information and affirmation.  They didn't plant themselves.  They hoped to be picked during the presentations and they were the lucky ones who were. There was a breakout session with one of the conference organizers, Mark Ireland, and a well known medium, Tina Powers.  I learned about the conference when I happened upon Mark's website months ago.  After his son, Brandon, passed some years ago, he went on a personal quest to find answers and visited many mediums.  His best reading had come from Tina.  She walked around a smaller room to give messages to folks.  She stopped by our seats to let us know that Marilyn (my grandma) says hello, that she knows we have her rings and then validated that it was her by telling us how much she loved Musicals.....which she did.  There were many, many stories like this from throughout the conference and even though Max came through several times, I am still a skeptic.  I hope to get over that soon but I know that I will always be a searcher.  I think that I hope to be the first mom to go over to "the other side" and bring my kid back.  In the meantime, I met a wonderful woman who, along with Mark Ireland and others is starting a new grief group for seekers like me: www.helpingparentsheal.info.  There is no group yet in LA, but as soon as there is, I will be there.
Oh ya, and I should mention that the three of us met with a medium on our own.  I went first and then my mom and aunt went after me.  He didn't know we were together.  Maxie was the first person to show up for both readings.  He came through as his sweet and adorable self.  My heart was pumping.  If you are curious and want to know more, I am happy to tell you. I've got nothing to hide really.  If you believe me, great.  If you don't, try not to judge me.  I am just a broken mommy, looking for her baby, and doing the very best I can with each day I have to get through before I get to be with him again.