Grief

[graceanne]

Ok, warning you all, this is a spew, and I don't promise it won't ramble. But the grief I'm feeling hit me again, hard last night, and I need to say it all. I've been filling poor Killi's ears, and it's not fair to her.

Until last fall I'd never lost anyone. Not really. I mean my grandpa died, but he was old, and he died in his bed. But other than that no one. Then last fall my best friends (you may remember me talking about my friend Ella) husband killed her. Not technically. Ella had bad kidneys, everyone knew that. He beat her so bad, that a week later she had a series of seizures. Seven months pregnant that murdering son of a bitch broke her wrist, her jaw, and two ribs. The only reason the ribs were broke was because she rolled to keep him from kicking her in the stomach. Then he shaved her head. He told me, in a drunken rage, that she was ugly on the inside, and he wanted to make her ugly on the outside. Because of the seizures, they had to take the twins she was carrying by emergancy cesarian. Then her stupid doctor gave her a med he knew she was allergic to, and finished off what kidney function she had left. She was put on dialysis, but she slid into a heavy depression. A week after getting out of the hospital she slit her wrists, from wrist to elbow. Her god mother, who she was living with, found her, and she was saved. Her doctors put her on anti-depressants, and she was doing better. She was doing great! Then the dialysis stopped working. They realized her kidneys couldn't stand the strain put on them by her antideppressants. So she had a choice, take the antidepressants and die, or not take them and die. She told them to stop the dialysis and stop the antidepressants. If she was going to die, she wanted to do it at home.

The night she died, her godmother brought the babies (she had a 15 month old, too) to her, and they went to sleep in her bed. Then her godmother came and put them in their own beds, and my friend lost consciousness. By three that morning she was dead.

Sometimes I think I'm doing ok, that I'm moving on. Then it hits me, and it feels like it was yesterday. Last night, as I was dozing off, I was thinking about how babies are so smell oriented. And then I remembered her god-mother telling me how they'd given the sweater E had been wearing when she died to her 15 month old, cause it smelled like her. And how her 15 month old wouldn't be parted from it. She slept with it, carried it with her everywhere, etc. Then I remember that last I heard she wasn't sleeping. She was barely eating. Ella's god mother said that she didnt' talk, she didn't laugh, she just sat there with Ella's sweater, like a ghost.

 

[BlueSugar]

:: speachless ::

*hugs tight*

s to the family and children as well.

A sad situation, and I'm very sorry anyone has to go through life with situations like that.

Maybe offer to help with the children? Have them join a play group?
As for you, and any of her other friends and family support each other and maybe talk to a professional a couple of times. Maybe read some material on coping ... meditate .. yoga .. and remember the happy times.

 

[graceanne]

:: speachless ::

*hugs tight*

s to the family and children as well.

A sad situation, and I'm very sorry anyone has to go through life with situations like that.

Maybe offer to help with the children? Have them join a play group?
As for you, and any of her other friends and family support each other and maybe talk to a professional a couple of times. Maybe read some material on coping ... meditate .. yoga .. and remember the happy times.

Her family is in Minnesota. Out here, it's pretty much me. I actually met her in a chat room for mommies. Then we got chatting. Then we got to where we'd talk on the phone every day.

But thank you. *hugs* I actually feel a lot better, after writing it out. Maybe I'll get some sleep tonight, instead of spending a whole night htinking of the things I'd like to do to the murdering son of a bitch.

 

[chris9]

I feel so sorry for you, for her children, her god-mother... I don't know what to say, it's something you only read about or see on the news, but never really realize that it happens to you/someone you know until it does.
*Hugs* I just don't know what to say...

Hopefully someone else can help you on how to deal with it, how to get on with your life.

 

[Vixandra]

I don't know what to say.
*hugs*

Maybe you could write out a journal or something talking about your memories of thier mother. That way, when they're older, they'll have something about her from one of her friends. Paste in pictures of her (if you have any) or anything else that reminds you of her.

 

[Killishandra]

hugs for gracie

Well, we've already talked about this, but of course I'm going to chip in on this thread.

Stay strong as you go through this grief, hun.

*HUGS*

 

[curiousjen]

I honestly have no experiences or a frame of reference that could possibly lead me to say something of value in the face of something so horrific, graceanne.

I can, of course, offer a *hug* and my PM box is always open if you want to rant or vent.

 

[Kajira Callista]

Her family is in Minnesota. Out here, it's pretty much me. I actually met her in a chat room for mommies. Then we got chatting. Then we got to where we'd talk on the phone every day.

But thank you. *hugs* I actually feel a lot better, after writing it out. Maybe I'll get some sleep tonight, instead of spending a whole night htinking of the things I'd like to do to the murdering son of a bitch.

I'm only going to offer one tiny bit of advice. Let go of the anger towards her husband and do not make him a priority in your thoughts, you are only holding on to the hurt that way.
Remember HER and who she was to you. Miss her, laugh to yourself about the fun things she said or did, and if you are like me, know that no one and nothing can hurt her now.

 

[Sir_Winston54]

:: Hugs :: to you, both for your grief, and just for being who/what you are. She is at peace now - keep that foremost in your mind, along with the thought that she would want you to remember all the best about her. And as KC says, don't let your anger at him color the good memories of her. He's not worth it.

 

[grace9]

Ok, warning you all, this is a spew, and I don't promise it won't ramble. But the grief I'm feeling hit me again, hard last night, and I need to say it all. I've been filling poor Killi's ears, and it's not fair to her.

Until last fall I'd never lost anyone. Not really. I mean my grandpa died, but he was old, and he died in his bed. But other than that no one. Then last fall my best friends (you may remember me talking about my friend Ella) husband killed her. Not technically. Ella had bad kidneys, everyone knew that. He beat her so bad, that a week later she had a series of seizures. Seven months pregnant that murdering son of a bitch broke her wrist, her jaw, and two ribs. The only reason the ribs were broke was because she rolled to keep him from kicking her in the stomach. Then he shaved her head. He told me, in a drunken rage, that she was ugly on the inside, and he wanted to make her ugly on the outside. Because of the seizures, they had to take the twins she was carrying by emergancy cesarian. Then her stupid doctor gave her a med he knew she was allergic to, and finished off what kidney function she had left. She was put on dialysis, but she slid into a heavy depression. A week after getting out of the hospital she slit her wrists, from wrist to elbow. Her god mother, who she was living with, found her, and she was saved. Her doctors put her on anti-depressants, and she was doing better. She was doing great! Then the dialysis stopped working. They realized her kidneys couldn't stand the strain put on them by her antideppressants. So she had a choice, take the antidepressants and die, or not take them and die. She told them to stop the dialysis and stop the antidepressants. If she was going to die, she wanted to do it at home.

The night she died, her godmother brought the babies (she had a 15 month old, too) to her, and they went to sleep in her bed. Then her godmother came and put them in their own beds, and my friend lost consciousness. By three that morning she was dead.

Sometimes I think I'm doing ok, that I'm moving on. Then it hits me, and it feels like it was yesterday. Last night, as I was dozing off, I was thinking about how babies are so smell oriented. And then I remembered her god-mother telling me how they'd given the sweater E had been wearing when she died to her 15 month old, cause it smelled like her. And how her 15 month old wouldn't be parted from it. She slept with it, carried it with her everywhere, etc. Then I remember that last I heard she wasn't sleeping. She was barely eating. Ella's god mother said that she didnt' talk, she didn't laugh, she just sat there with Ella's sweater, like a ghost.

*hugs...hugs...hugs....hugs*....there are simply no words Grace for how deeply my heart is with you and Ella's friends and family. You have many hearts with you here at Lit and otherwise....
You have my email and always feel free to drop me a line if you need to talk.

Gracie~

 

[Lilith]

A year ago today my friend (the word friend seems so inadequate for what we were to eachother) made the first attempt on his life, and was successful just two days later. His children are still young and I worry so much that they will never hear the good things about their dad's life, only the horrible ending of it. I've written letters and given them to a family friend for safe keeping telling them all the wonderful things their dad told me about them. In the letters I include contact information if they ever just need some one to talk to about him.

Maybe someone can make something for the babies with her sweater. When my uncle died tragically, my aunt took all his fave clothes and a friend sewed them into quilts for each child, something to envelope them in their father's memory forever.

I know how you feel about managing the grief. There are days I'm ok, then something, anything, and POW! ~something odd will bring it up or make me think about him and I experience the loss over and over. ((hugs)) hold tight! Through your eyes Ella will live, when you tell her children the stories they'll be longing to hear.

 

[graceanne]

Thank you everyone. I guess the reason I'm still so mad at him, is he got of scott free. Because she's dead and can't press charges the state dropped the assault, and since she technically died of kidney failure, their's no murder charges, even though he killed her.

And I know that she's in heaven. When she was dying, she'd call me everyday. She never had the energy to say more than hi and bye, but we'd talk. I told her that she was going to heaven, and that Jesus would meet her there with the babies she miscarried in his arms. She couldn't say anything, but she called back everyday, so I know that I was helping her.

She was really the only connection I had to her and her kids. I sorta knew her family, but just over the phone. I didn't have any of their addresses or phone numbers, and no one's contacted me since a month or so after she died. When she first got sick, from the pregnancy, she was on bed rest, so we'd exchange daily emails. I have some of them, and I saved them to my harddrive. I've also got a few pictures of her. She was camera shy and getting pictures from her was like pulling teeth. I hope that eventually her kids will start talking, and asking questions, and my name will come up. After all I was an integral part of her life when she was dying. And I won't show them the IM conversation I had with the mudering son of a bitch. I saved it so that if he tries to get custody of them, I'll have that for her family to show the court. God I hope he burns in hell.

 

[shy slave]

 

[Netzach]

Oh, hon. It's a horrible story and grief does sneak up on you, it's not just a straight line from being in shock and sad to being more ok and less in shock.

Hugs and healing from afar.

 

[timberwolf05]

i, am, sorry

Ok, warning you all, this is a spew, and I don't promise it won't ramble. But the grief I'm feeling hit me again, hard last night, and I need to say it all. I've been filling poor Killi's ears, and it's not fair to her.

Until last fall I'd never lost anyone. Not really. I mean my grandpa died, but he was old, and he died in his bed. But other than that no one. Then last fall my best friends (you may remember me talking about my friend Ella) husband killed her. Not technically. Ella had bad kidneys, everyone knew that. He beat her so bad, that a week later she had a series of seizures. Seven months pregnant that murdering son of a bitch broke her wrist, her jaw, and two ribs. The only reason the ribs were broke was because she rolled to keep him from kicking her in the stomach. Then he shaved her head. He told me, in a drunken rage, that she was ugly on the inside, and he wanted to make her ugly on the outside. Because of the seizures, they had to take the twins she was carrying by emergancy cesarian. Then her stupid doctor gave her a med he knew she was allergic to, and finished off what kidney function she had left. She was put on dialysis, but she slid into a heavy depression. A week after getting out of the hospital she slit her wrists, from wrist to elbow. Her god mother, who she was living with, found her, and she was saved. Her doctors put her on anti-depressants, and she was doing better. She was doing great! Then the dialysis stopped working. They realized her kidneys couldn't stand the strain put on them by her antideppressants. So she had a choice, take the antidepressants and die, or not take them and die. She told them to stop the dialysis and stop the antidepressants. If she was going to die, she wanted to do it at home.

The night she died, her godmother brought the babies (she had a 15 month old, too) to her, and they went to sleep in her bed. Then her godmother came and put them in their own beds, and my friend lost consciousness. By three that morning she was dead.

Sometimes I think I'm doing ok, that I'm moving on. Then it hits me, and it feels like it was yesterday. Last night, as I was dozing off, I was thinking about how babies are so smell oriented. And then I remembered her god-mother telling me how they'd given the sweater E had been wearing when she died to her 15 month old, cause it smelled like her. And how her 15 month old wouldn't be parted from it. She slept with it, carried it with her everywhere, etc. Then I remember that last I heard she wasn't sleeping. She was barely eating. Ella's god mother said that she didnt' talk, she didn't laugh, she just sat there with Ella's sweater, like a ghost.

-------------------------------------------------------------------


i am indeed so so sorry.

 

[Silverlily]

God I hope he burns in hell.

He will. I don't believe in much, but karma will have its due. Maybe not in this life, but there is no escaping it.

 

[catalina_francisco]

Coming up to the first aniversary of my father's suicide in a week's time, I have no words of wisdom to share except there is no changing what has happened and though acceptance is so damn hard to achieve at times, it is the path to maintaining sanity in the long term. I always hold onto the belief that things happen as they do for a reason, no matter how unfair or misguided the event may seem to be at the time.....many times I have unexpectedly discovered what may have been the reason at a later date (sometimes years later) which has managed to keep me focused on working through the grief and pain and reaching that point of acceptance no matter how much emotional pain it may cause me to do so.....I do not have the power to change what will be. Hang in there.

Catalina

 

[Guest]

 

[graceanne]

Thank you, everyone. Like I said, it's kinda up and down, I'm doing better now than when I wrote about her. Sometimes talking about her just helps.

And sometimes I feel her, so who knows. Her godmother says that she thinks Ella's my guardian angel. It's kinda cool to think that.

I try not to grieve too much, cause I know she wouldn't want that. Ella really hated it when people were sad over her, or worried, or anything, and I know that it grieves her when I grieve.

 

[sphynx's dragon]

Many people may not like what I write here but it is the truth. It never goes aay. But it does change. This fall it will be 14 years since my father's death. It still hurts and I still cry, but I remember the good times easier with the passage of time. My tears are not for my father, but for those of us here on the earth, for my son who will never know his grandfather. The loss is ours, and my tears are for us. It took my years to get to this point. Only after I let go of the anger over the cause and stopped holding on to it so I could blame someone. Fault is regardless, you have lost someone dear to you, let your tears be for those who will never know her or never know her better. At the same time, make her immortal, tell stories about her and share them with those who knew or and those who should. Let the best of her live on forever.

 

[timberwolf05]

i know all too well

Coming up to the first aniversary of my father's suicide in a week's time, I have no words of wisdom to share except there is no changing what has happened and though acceptance is so damn hard to achieve at times, it is the path to maintaining sanity in the long term. I always hold onto the belief that things happen as they do for a reason, no matter how unfair or misguided the event may seem to be at the time.....many times I have unexpectedly discovered what may have been the reason at a later date (sometimes years later) which has managed to keep me focused on working through the grief and pain and reaching that point of acceptance no matter how much emotional pain it may cause me to do so.....I do not have the power to change what will be. Hang in there.

Catalina

Coming up to the first aniversary of my father's suicide in a week's time,

****i know all too well. been since 1973 and i still hate that time of the year.

 

[tealsphynx]

I've never lost anyone close to me, so I feel my words probably don't have as much merit as the others on the board here who have. I'm sorry for your loss, and everyone elses. Death can be such a difficult topic to deal with. No one wants to think about their mortality or the mortality of others, but having someone close to you die brings that mortality right to your face. You miss their life, their, individual spark that touched you and brought them close to you even across the distances. One day graceanne, you'll meet your friend in heaven and be united again <hugs>. Feeling her presence may help or may hurt more, I'm not sure how it is for you.

 

[graceanne]

Coming up to the first aniversary of my father's suicide in a week's time, I have no words of wisdom to share except there is no changing what has happened and though acceptance is so damn hard to achieve at times, it is the path to maintaining sanity in the long term. I always hold onto the belief that things happen as they do for a reason, no matter how unfair or misguided the event may seem to be at the time.....many times I have unexpectedly discovered what may have been the reason at a later date (sometimes years later) which has managed to keep me focused on working through the grief and pain and reaching that point of acceptance no matter how much emotional pain it may cause me to do so.....I do not have the power to change what will be. Hang in there.

Catalina

I'm really sorry to hear your dad committed suicide. My aunts dad committed suicide, and she told me once it's the worst kind of abandonment. On the other hand, she was a child when he did it. I don't know if that makes a difference or not. She blamed herself, she wasn't a good enough girl, and he didn't love her enough.

My dad's got cancer, he's had it for a year or so. But, for me, it's easier to handle these things when it's out of everyones control. With Ella it was DONE to her, with my dad and also my nephew it's just illness. My nephew died in his mothers arms, and my dad will probably die in mine. (He's probably going to move in with me this summer.) To me their's rightness in that. It's sad, but it's a natural part of life. But with Ella she was fine. Her kidneys were weak, but she could have lived a long healthy life. But that son of a bitch stopped it. He beat his wife, 7 months pregnant with his twins, until she had seizures. Then when she was in the hospital he told her he didn't want them anyway, cause they'd probably be retarded because they're so premature. Like he hadn't made her sick enough, he had to make it worse. She called me in tears. I had spent all that week assuring her that the twins were fine, and he undid it with a few cruel words. Shortly after she'd gone home, someone noticed Sarah, her 15 month old, was favoring her side, so they took her to the pediatrician. She'd REbroke a rib. As in it'd been broken before, but she'd rebroke it with a fall. I'm sure we can all guess who broke her rib the first time. Do you know how hard it is to break a babies bones? They're made mostly out of cartlidge. It takes a lot of pressure to break their bones, and it's nearly impossible to do accidently. Frankly when small children break bones they think two things, abuse or cancer.

I'm gonna stop, I'm just working myself up, and it's giving me a headache.

 

[timberwolf05]

really sorry

I'm gonna stop, I'm just working myself up, and it's giving me a headache.

i am, really, sorry.

 

[catalina_francisco]

Coming up to the first aniversary of my father's suicide in a week's time,

****i know all too well. been since 1973 and i still hate that time of the year.

I think I work on trying to find a balance between what I think was in his heart and mind, the many questions left unanswered and yet always producing many possibilities, and the fact his last thoughts were of me which is nice but never the same as his still being here. A letter or something would have perhaps helped provide some answers...I don't know for sure. Seeing him as he was in death was disturbing in some part, but necessary in another and something I am always thankful I had the presence of mind and knowing myself enough to do, and my loving Dominant's arms waiting outside for me when I needed to be held to come to terms with what I had seen and felt.

Catalina