I Need Those Pieces Back.

February 2007, revisited...

 

 I spent several hours at the cemetery last night after work, and then I took a drive to clear my mind. I took a left off the main highway and followed the winding road as far as it would go. House. Farm. House. House. "Road Ends 1000 Feet." The long winding road dropped down to old gravel at a rundown cemetery with some of those flashy lights that I hate so much. The glowing eyes of a single grazing deer caught my headlights as the tree line and road slipped away into open darkness. A tiny sliver of a red moon seeped through the thick black clouds, illuminating the dark water just enough to bring fallen, withered trees and lonely wooden poles out of hiding. Dove cries echoed faintly from out across the water. The air was chilly and calm, with an abnormal stillness that just didn't feel right. Across the way, red lights shone dimly under the highway bridge like distant dying stars, the only sign of civilization aside from the quiet drone of the truck's engine. It was dark, desolate, and cold, unlike anything I've ever seen, even in those crazy sci-fi movies. I sat shivering and closed my eyes, choking on the still air and the tears freezing between my eyelashes. For a moment, my eyes were completely frozen and blind.

I heard her laughter from the hallway and looked up to see her moving about in the mirror. I could smell her favorite shampoo as her hair swayed when she rounded the corner. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them talking and eating candy in the next room. She looked up and smiled at me, but it couldn't be. She couldn't be there. Her infectious laughter was shattered by the screeching of tires and busting glass. The smell of hot airbag and blood and burning oil seeped through the air like poison gas, thickly drowning out the shampoo of moments before. A loud, smothering scream, and all went silent.

My lungs got tight, and my frozen eyes shot wide open to find the same dark, desolate wasteland I'd been staring at for an hour. As my eyes once again adjusted to the darkness, the red of the moon got deeper, the air got colder, and those red lights under the bridge seemed even farther away than ever. The shadows of those withered trees were more pronounced against the reflection of the moon on the black water, but the whole world seemed to grow ever darker with every faint breath.

The end of that old ferry road felt like the end of the world....and except for the occasional cry of that lonesome dove, I was completely alone.

 

 

This was written 7 months after we buried F. That was truly the deepest and darkest time of my life. I used to drive out to the landing where the old ferry used to be and sit for hours at night. It was terrifying, to be completely honest. I didn't like the dark or that old cemetery...especially those damn flashing lights, and some really dark nights it was really hard to tell where the landing stopped and the water began. (But it was my favorite place to be.)

It's been 7 months (actually, 8 months next week) since we lost Brake. My heart hurts for my little boy. My nightmares have been getting worse, but lately, they have all been about F. It hurts, reliving all those horrible nights again, having all of those horrible images burned into my head once more. I get to the point that I don't want to go to sleep because I don't want to see it, to see her like that, to choke on those smells that aren't really there. I get to the point that I'm so overwhelmed that I'm angry. Angry at God for taking her. And then taking Andy. And then Lilly and then Brake. Angry at this out of control roller coaster that I can't get off and never wanted to get on.

I have found that I can no longer distinguish between the grief of one or the other. They are all so closely interlinked even though they were all so different, so completely separate. My heart aches. And this never ending roller coaster is wearing me down. 

I don't sleep, at least not very much or very well. I try to divert my attention to something but I lose my focus. Even when I can focus, I can't remember. I can't remember what I wore yesterday or what I had for breakfast. Nope, not lunch or dinner either. I try to study because I really do want to learn my job. But I confuse this system with that system. And then something stupid like a ladder causes a flashback. It's pointless to try to remember anything when I have those. Then one of Andy's favorite songs comes on and for no apparent reason I just start bawling. And then I'm angry because I hate crying. I cry myself to sleep and then wake up to nightmares and another vicious cycle starts over again. 

This sounds really stupid, but I think the trauma ripped out pieces of my brain, important ones that I need to function at least somewhat like a normal person. I really need those pieces back.