The anniversary of Hannah passing was quite strange really. The week leading up to it was terrible. I was stressed, on edge, terrified, hurt and putting myself through way, way too much. I think you spend so much time worrying about others, sometimes you forget to take care of yourself. I know i'm guilty of that. I think men in general put too much pressure on the need to be a rock that sometimes you cant see your rock crumbling away. It was hard and the days before I was actually unsure how we were going to actually get through the day. I was honestly concerned we were taking about 10 steps backwards in our grief and the progress - or whatever the hell you call rebuilding - we had made we were going to have to do again.
Then, in all honesty, the day was fine. I got up earlier and Nora woke early too. I sat outside with her, had a coffee and a snuggle and we watched the sun rise and the world slowly come to life. Hannah died just as the sun rose and I think i'll do this each and every year.
Nora was fine. I often look at her and wonder what she makes of it all. She must be so confused. She's gone through all of this with us with absolutely no clue what Mummy and Daddy have been going through. Still laughing and joking and growing and full of love. I guess beyond that little matters really and she has the most important ingredients for when she is old enough to understand and ask all of her questions.
Kate got up a little while later and the day was calm. We sat outside at one point and I asked how she was doing and she told me fine. For what ever reason the stress of the lead up to it all was much worse than the actual day. I guess its because you are forced to relive all of those moments leading up to it. Those moments that, although she was peaceful and pain free, it was nothing short of a horror movie and it all reinforces to you we have a long journey of healing still to get through. If healing is even the right word. We are still very much broken or again whatever the right description of this state of grief is.
I've been thinking about how we have done this year. For the most part I think we've done pretty well.
I looked back through my blog and overall, despite the heart ache I think we are a story of hope. I remember us taking Hannah for chemo the first time. That was a really tough day. The memory of watching that bag be put up and the lovely nurse explain what was happening will sadly never leave me. On the way the the hospital I played her You'll Never Walk Alone and told her about the song and reassured her she wouldn't go through any of it alone, that we would never give up, and we would be there with her every step of the way. I'm glad I had sunglasses on so she couldn't see the tears, but it was a nice moment. Although, she soon asked for one of her usual songs to be played and we swiftly slipped from Gerry and the Pacemakers to Echosmith and Cool Kids. It was a method we stuck with back then and continue now.
When I think about it all, and I mean completely honestly with myself, Hannah nursed us through it all as much as we did her. She was forced to grow up so quickly and her innocence stolen from her but everything she did, how she did it, how she faced everything. I'm convinced it was for us in some strange, 'I wont let you down way'. That's what drives us now and keeps us going. She was so incredible. My little gentle, sweet hearted Hannah, fierce as a lion!
Some of the moments of sheer bravery. She never balked at the prospect of surgery and she went way, way, way too many times. We were that family where everything that could go wrong, did. At least it felt like it. Sure, don't get me wrong she would complain and howl and fight and none of it was easy. But she was the one who over came it all. She was the one who, well honestly, she won. That's what drives me now. How can you have that roll model and give in and not continue to strive to be better and better.
I've written about grief just being love. It is. I was lucky enough to love like that and so the pain of it all. It's fine. I'm comfortable with it. It hurts and still crushes me on days. But I would not change it. You don't realize how much I love her and that wins every time.
My point is. She inspires us. If the gift of her was short on time it was ginormous in effect.
I've learned that everything is difficult the first time. All those big milestones are tough. Birthdays, Fathers Day, Mothers Day, School events, the anniversary. But its all the little things you don't think about or expect that rip you too. You cant fight them. Just take your time. Catch your breath. Try and turn the pain into a smile and honestly, just be kind to yourself.
People told me it would get easier and twelve months ago I wouldn't have it. But they are right. Why wouldn't they be if they have walked a similar path. I think each year will slowly but surely be that little bit easier to deal with it all.
There are days now where she isn't the first thing I think of or occasionally the last thing I think of at night. It doesn't take long until I do but I take that as some small sign of progress. Progress - I mean, what the hell? What even is the right word? Do I want to think of her each and ever day, of course. I hope you know what I am trying to convey. It doesn't consume me I guess is the right phrase.
Sometimes I feel guilty for that. But, we are who we are. You can punish yourself endlessly for your own, often externally influenced, perception of what is right and wrong. I cant do that. Or at least I try not to. I am who I am. Everything I have been through defines that. So long as I am kind to myself and others and be honest with myself then all I do or don't do is fine.
I still haven't dreamt of her. That drives me crazy. I want to dream of her. I want one of those vivid dreams where I wake up and for a few small moments it all feels so real. Maybe its actually a blessing not to. But I want to. I was away with work recently and was dreaming and it took a while to realize where I was. Those are the dreams I want.
I can now watch some videos and look at pictures without tears, at least for a little while. I smile and laugh at them more than they make me sad and that is comforting. I look forward to the day when Nora is older and we can tell her all about her sister and share these with her. But i'm also glad its a little way away just yet.
We have been away a few times and are thankful for the friends who have been there for us. I'm not sure it is possible to get to this point without friends and their natural ability to just be completely normal with you most of the time. But then to have the sensitivity to know when to just sit and listen for a while. We are lucky for the people we call our friends.
It's important to keep making memories. Not just for us but for Nora also. She deserves parents that aren't consumed by their grief and we try to be normal for her. I think we do a pretty good job. She certainly doesn't give me any cause for concern. Hannah wouldn't want us to not be the same parents we were for her.
I was worried for a while that we would be different or over protective with Nora. It's not the case. I still manage to treat her the same as we did with Hannah. I'll encourage her to find small moments of danger and let her figure out her levels of fear and encourage her to push herself as much as possible. She's a happy little thing and besides anything else, I wouldn't ask for more of her than that.
Work is going good. I'm able to push more and more and my capacity has increased. Pretty sure my colleagues are glad. I owe them plenty.
I feel like I am ready to share the story more now. I'm ready to write it all down. I'm ready to talk about it. I'm ready to push for others and do more and more. I'm not sure what or how yet but I seem to have the capacity to share openly and honestly so I want to do that.
I've connected with plenty of people through this blog who are going through or have been through something similar. Thanks for reaching out.Thanks for sharing your thoughts and memories. We all know there is no script to any of this. Sharing and opening up is important, at least it is for me.
Many people have said how incredible it is i'm writing and sharing but in all honesty it makes me feel a little uncomfortable. I'm not writing for anything other than the hope some poor Dad or Mum stumbles on it one day in the future and perhaps my words and experience help them in some way. Then in some small way it was all worth it. - as if any of it will ever make sense in any way what so ever.
This has been the worst year of my life, no doubt. Worse than Cancer. At least she was here then. I'm not the same person I was before it all started. I'm different in so many ways. Some ways i'm not as good, in other ways I think I am a better person for having been through it all. I still like myself. I have fought to stay away from guilt and bitterness and that has helped me. I think I am kinder. I think I care more. We still laugh and we still smile and we still joke and we are still Happy. That's the important thing - at least to me.
I wish more of it made sense. I wish there was more logic to it. I could probably turn my brain off a little more but it is what it is I guess.
If you are reading this and going through something similar. You can make it.
Step by step, one little day at a time.
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