A Diffucult Year Two So Far

Artwork by Kelci Gibbons

Nearly a year and a half into this nightmare and we're still standing. As predicted, some days are easier than others, but I can honestly say that the ache of losing Kelci never goes away, nor do I expect that it ever will.

The best way I can describe it so others can who aren't living it can somewhat understand is to compare it to a toothache (hardly the same, but you'll see the point).  It is a non-ending pain that can be dulled with medicine, might not ache all the time, but can come back with full force when you least expect it.  It's a volcano simmering under the surface that you just never know when it will erupt. At least with a toothache there are ways to fix it, with this, we have none.

This year, the holidays have brought the ache back full force.  It's hard finding Christmas Spirit this year when all I want to do is crawl into bed and sleep and hope you wake up when the holidays are over. It's not a good attitude to have, and I know it, so I'm trying very hard to change it.  I feel like I'm wearing a mask though, but faking it 'til I'm making it might be better than the alternative (giving in to the despair).

I read that the second year after losing your child is often harder than the first year, at the time I read it I wasn't sure I believed it.  I was in so much pain that I didn't think it could get worse.  The levels and layers of grief often surprise me. Yes, there are days that it gets worse, even years after. 

In my case, and I'm sure this is common, I think I was so numb last year and trying so desperately to make everything OK for all those suffering around me that I dug in deep and refused to allow the holidays to bad.  I had so much support, came up with the idea of the Peace Tree, and was focused and determined to make it happen.  This year, I just don't feel the same. I'm not going to give in to despair, but I don't have the same determination this year like I did last year and it's a much harder struggle.

The first year,  we were so in shock and numb that we floated through most of it.  Even now, looking back, much of it is fuzzy and dreamlike.  I find myself wondering if it really happened, and often question how I did it. I wish I could pinpoint it, so I could draw on that strength again this year.  So much is different.

I did put the Peace Tree up again, and as I was decorating it and reflecting on each ornament that was sent last year with so much love, I did feel peace and comfort and really thought that it would be enough to pull me through again.  For whatever reason, it isn't.  I hesitate to write this here, because I certainly don't want to offend anyone or seem ungrateful (because I truly am), but I feel the difference last year, compared to this one was coming home each day through the season and finding new ornaments for the tree.  It was so uplifting, and kept us occupied and gave us something to look forward to as Christmas neared.  This year, once I put the peace tree up, it was done, and with that I came the feelings (right or wrong) that others got to go on with their lives, but we were still, and would forever be here.  Every Christmas for the rest of our lives is going to be a Christmas without Kelci.  That's our reality, and to be frank, that reality sucks.

I don't like feeling this way, but I do.  I'll push through though, because I have to, because I know it is the better thing to do.  I'll crawl into my bed, and I'll cry for awhile, but I'll get up, put on a happy face and continue to find things to make me smile and to remember that finding Christmas Spirit and inner peace are links to connection and communication with my beautiful girl.