Angry and Depressed

I no longer want to hear sorry for your loss. She’s in a better place. Time will heal. In fact, on the day she passed away I did not feel anything yet. I did not cry. I had regular conversations. I viewed the body. I touched my baby. Although we prayed, followed our regimens and were patient, positive, and hopeful, there came the time when hope was no more. That was rather numbing. She was gone; she was no longer here. I did not cry. At this juncture, to try to grasp this, I had to reflect. I had to go back to the day she was born. There began the evolving realization that I would never see her again. Talk to her on the phone. Watch her approach. Cook for her.

Depression-feelings of severe despondency and dejection

And from a psychiatric standpoint, the rest of the definition is

typically, also with feelings of inadequacy and guilt often accompanied by lack of energy and disturbance of appetite and sleep.

Losing a child is never adequate. And I had guilt. The guilt of not making sure she had regular mammograms. Guilty for still being here and she was not. I feel bad for near the end when I would cook for her it didn’t fail that I would mess up one of the dishes. And guilty that I forgot to prepare lasagna. How inadequate is that? Not too, I guess. No one says, “there, I’ve done everything perfectly”. And if there is I do not want to meet them.

There was a time when both my daughter and I were adequately inadequate, and we kept it that way… unspoken. We never said goodbye. I know I just could not do it, and neither could she.

Yes, she did everything she was told to do, and we were not rewarded. All the crying and praying to God netted me stroking my child who was cold to the touch. I did feel cheated. And my daughter felt cheated too. She was not ready to go. She had a life. She had a job and children. One of the questions she asked me is, “Did I have my passport?” She conveyed to me that she wanted me to go places as she told me some of the places she wanted to go.

                                                Anger-feeling or showing strong annoyance, displeasure, or hostility

Somehow that definition didn’t seem fitting. But after I thought about it, that is what I was feeling. How can you be respectfully hostile towards God? I mean I didn’t curse Him, but I was beginning to feel betrayed. Where was His omniscience when I looked for it? Oh, oh, I guess now is the time to admire the poem footprints…you only see one set of footprints because I was carrying you? I did not need carrying I needed a cure for my kid. Yeah, as this transpired there was a very controlled annoyance. I was angry with Him because He did not answer our prayers as we saw fit.

I was angry because she did not get to do the things that others her age was getting to do. That she had put away many childish things and was approaching her full-grown stage. You know, not I am 18 and grown but the stage of full-grown woman. I miss that. I could not think of a consoling way to convey that there would be no time for her to meet her accomplishments. I remember when she asked me if it was okay for her to go? I had to say yes. 

In times past when she was on her way to someplace, she would call me, and we would talk until she got to where he was going. She would get there, and I would know she had arrived because of her abrupt goodbye. Oh, so you just used me to talk to until you got to your destination. We would laugh and say our goodbyes. That leads me to think about the time in February of 2019 when she was tired of sitting around and decided she was going to drive for Uber or Lyft. I don’t remember which one. She started by doing short runs that were near her house.

One day she had driven out to the airport. She wanted bigger fares. She always wanted to go a little further. She called me after she had pulled to the side of the road as she was on her way home. She was upset. That was the first thing I detected. She started crying. She said she was having a hard time making it home. We talked a little while before she got ready to drive again. Then we talked a little more in between updates of how far she was from home. We usually talk until she reaches her destination, but not this time. When she was still a little way from home, she said would finish the little way that she had to go on her own. “Okay FatAss .”

She was always steadfast. I think about the first week in April of 2019 when she was spending her last outing with her children. They went to a resort to go on The last family outing. As I reflect now, I am glad for her getaway with her children. I am glad that she got to stay in her own house until the end. A place that smelled like home and not a hospital.

 In reflection, there were things to be thankful for. But in this instance, you don’t see or care for those things. Well, you do. At what point do you put your dukes down? At what point do you put hope aside?

It sure was difficult to unclench my spiritual fists and take a beating. At the same time Jennifer could put her dukes down and her beating stopped. May you rest in peace, my little kid.