Not 43

Yesterday was Donny's Birthday.  It is strange, two days ago my niece Emma turned 1, but Donny will never turn 43.  I was emotionally exhausted yesterday trying to make sure I didn't feel anything.  I guess that was the wrong answer.  I could barely breath all day.  I cried...almost.  I ignored txts of friends and family giving support.  I didn't go to the grave or say a prayer or even mention it to Kristin.  What am I supposed to do?

I told Teresa that 'it wasn't the loneliness it was the missing.'  I can't share with anyone.  The burden might be too much for me to carry alone, but I would rather do it alone than make anyone share the weight.  I can't share anyone  else's weight, it seems unfair to make them share mine.  I'll just keep it to myself.

There are sunny days and play dates and end of school field trips and new neighbors...lots of exciting light things to be doing.  I don't need to share my darkness.  I will sleep and cry when I'm alone and try to forget and try to just keep swimming.

A little girl in the community just died today of brain cancer.  She lived 5 years.  Donny lived 7 days.  Where is the fairness in that.  Why does it make me so angry that she finally died and the whole community is feeling it....He died too...  Is it more sad because she had such a short life?  They prolonged it with every imaginable treatment.  Distorted her body, stunted her growth made her sick-for what?  For more years of being sick?  There is no love in prolonging the inevitable.  It is a selfish thing to do.  To make a person live years and hurt everyone around them.  A swift death is more generous.  A swift death shows faith in Gods plan and an acceptance that life without the ability to live it is unnecessary.

Two years it took mom to die.  For what?  Because she wasn't ready to give up?  She didn't get out of her chair for two years...that is no life!  Donny did it right, short and sweet and done.  No heroic measures, no suffering (very little) no waiting day after day, year after year, to see if this day is the one.  It is very selfish to not die.  Even dad sometimes, He has lost his ability to take responsibility for his own actions and see that what he does effects those around him.  Is he done?  Should he be done?  Has he suffered enough?  Is the life he is living enough to justify his life?  Too many questions and too much hurt.  I don't want him gone, but I want him capable.  Right now he is at: most days are bad.  Maybe he is learning to live whatever life he can and that is enough.  It is terribly hard to see him be the shell of the man he once was.

Too many question, not enough answers.