So now what do I do?

So it’s still coming. That dreaded 1 year.

Long before Emily died, I started reading care pages of kids with DIPG, which is an inoperable brain tumor that typically strikes young children. A friend of mine’s nephew died from this cancer, and through his website I started following the journeys of other kids. Many of these children have died since I started reading their web pages, and their families have continued writing in the blogs. One little girl especially stole my heart- Grace. She died in February, only 2 months before Emily. Unlike the other journals, suddenly this one was mirroring many of my own emotions. Grace’s mother’s words often expressed exactly what I was feeling. Even though the circumstances are completely different, the intensity of loss, grief, and sorrow are still the same. When she wrote on the 1 year mark for Grace, she wrote that she looked at her husband and said, “now what do we do?"

Oh, that’s exactly how I feel as the day gets closer. Now what? There is absolutely nothing different about April1st. It’s not like we can say “okay we made it here, now things are suddenly going to be better.” If anything, the 1st of April is the last of the firsts. We made it through the first birthday, the first Thanksgiving, the first Christmas, and we’ll get through the first year. But the depressing thought is that I have to do it all over again. And again. And again.. Only the number in front changes.

What I seem to be unable to wrap my mind around is the absolute finality of it all. That it’s not all going to end on April 1st. That it’s just going to stretch into 2 years. Then 5. Then 10. Then 20. And on and on. I catch myself looking at a picture and I think “Oh my God, she’s really gone. I mean GONE.” It’s a strange kind of missing someone. Like Lauren for example. I miss her all the time. She’s my very best friend in the whole world. But it’s not something that I constantly dwell on because 1) I know I will see her again; and 2) I can pick up the phone and talk to her any time that I want. But missing Emily…it’s the kind of missing that you can’t do a thing about. It’s so much harder knowing that she’s gone forever.

The beginning of April isn’t a good time in our family. Rebecca died on April 2nd. And even though it was before I was born, in some ways I’ve always felt the shadow her death left on my parents. And then Emily died on the 1st. Add to the fact that my mother’s birthday is the 2nd and mine is the 6th just adds insult to injury. So to say that we’re dreading the beginning of April is an understatement.

But yet, I find myself laughing at the irony of the situation. Fair warning, I know not everyone appreciates my sense of irony or gallows humor. So you may want to avoid this last paragraph.

I can’t help but laugh… every birthday I’ve ever had since Emily came along, she always found some way to make it about her. There was always some kind of drama, some kind of meltdown. She hated not being the center of attention. And now? Well, she successfully managed to overshadow my day. And even though they say it gets easier with time…. the beginning of April will never be the same.

I’ll show her. From now on, I’m going to have a big party every year for my birthday. She’s not the only one in this family who loves her birthday. And yet… I’d give anything in the world if she was still here to ruin my day.