I went to town this morning, I needed to get away for a little bit, I needed to ‘connect’ again, or get connected, im not sure. I just needed to go. I got some coffee, and picked up a paper, last night I found out one of my friends had died. He wasnt really a close friend, he was in his 70’s, but was one of those people, who was almost like a…deffinition, always had a positive outlook on life, and now, well…hes dead. I picked up a paper, half looking for his serives, half just lookin for something to distract my mind. When I flipped to the front page of obituaries, what I found was “Mia V Hammon” 3 months old. My heart stopped for a moment, I froze, coffee in mid air, I had to remind myself to breath, That it wasnt me, that it was ok. After I regained myself, I thought, 3 months, damn. I feel so terribly bad for the parents of the precious little girl. I dont know them, I didnt know her, but I know death, I know death of a child, I know it all to well….Its hard, it sucks, and it doesnt seem fair. That led me to thinking again, today, is July 11, as everyone would know. Its 2 yrs, and 7 months today that little Em died. It doesnt seem possible!!! How? 2 years? no, OVER 2 years? OVER 2 AND 1/2 years?? HOW?? Shes been dead longer than she lived, HOW?? I thought about how far ive come, or more like, how far I havent come, I thought about how far I still HAVE to go. I thought about how shes been put on the back burner, along with the rest of my family. How death hasnt seemed to effect me the way it did back then, is this wrong? When I found out that my friend had died, it was like, wow. But I felt worse when I thought about how his fmaily would feel, how his wife, of….50 some years, would feel, how the pain and numbness must be, I remember those feelings. When I saw that little girl in the paper, it was like, WOW. But what hit harder was the feelings I know that her family, her parents, will feel, and how 2 and 1/2 years and 1 month later, I still feel the pain. I try to put it behind me, I try to put the pain away, I box it up and put it on the shelf, but it comes out, always comes back.
I came back home, and saw molly, still sound asleep, and I thought back to last night, She woke up in the middle of the night, screaming, she wasnt screaming for her dad, or her mom, She was screaming UNCLE DAVE!!!! at the top of her voice, she was screaming, and crying, she was tossing back and forth, I went in her room, and put my hand on her head, and told her it was ok, and she stopped, she sighed contently and rolled over and fell asleep. I sat in there a few minutes watching her, breathing slowly, and turning every so often, she had a little fever, but she seemed to be ok. I thought about how she wasnt yelling for her dad, or mom, and that the word ‘dad’ means nothing to her, the word ‘mom’ means nothing more to her than ‘bath’ or ‘dog’ its just another word. It holds no special meaning, and it wont, because shes been introduced to death early. Death sucks, I hate it, but theres some things that just….happen. Its called life, death means basically the same thing.