We are going to church today! (I guess technically it was yesterday)




I don't really know what happened. Well I know what happened, it's just hard to explain I guess. Baby Girl got punched by grief today and got punched hard.  It has been several months since grief has hit her so hard "You know what, she is doing really well lately" I've been telling everyone who asks.  Really well, shes been going to sleep overs, shes been leaving mommy more, her anxiety is less, she hasn't had a "grief tantrum" in months. She is just doing really well.  Then today happened.

It's Sunday, we were going to church, we were going to make it to church today.  There is a lot of grief rolled up in church, it's complicated and for another blog. In the before we rarely missed a Sunday, in the After it's a pretty great feat if I make it there once a month. My friend from a neighboring church was going to be there today and I said I would sit with her, after we were going out to lunch. We were going to make it to church today.

"Time to get dressed Baby Girl, we are going to church today!" "ok mommy" and then she got dressed, in a timely manner and everything. I guess I should have known something was off right then.  She asked if we could drive through the coffee shop on the way so she could get a chocolate milkshake and I could get coffee. My parenting in the After (as in after math of losing your husband) is superb, people that know me know I am highly concerned with the nutritious breakfasts she gets so I said of course we can go to the coffee shop. (you might also read that as in the After my concern about nutrition has flown straight out the window and I'm pretty proud of myself if I can get her to eat anything at all for breakfast) Milkshakes it is.  Everyone was happy I even told the guy taking our order "we are going to church today"

About half way to church Baby Girl found out that her little friend wasn't going to be there today. "I don't want to go anymore mommy" I explained to her that we were going to church today, we were already half way there, and just because our friend can't go is not a good enough reason for us not to go. Then something happened, something hit her, grief punched her in the gut.

Baby Girl went into a grief tantrum, and a big giant one at that. She started crying and screaming uncontrollably. Crying that she had no friends, crying that I was a mean mommy, crying that she had no one to play with, crying and sobbing uncontrollably. She even says, I don't know why I'm crying but I can't stop.  Then she did something new and fun, she unbuckled herself and climbed up into the front seat still sobbing "I need snuggles mommy" indeed my poor Baby Girl but I'm driving right now.  We got to church and cried some more in the parking lot. Then she started to calm down so we went inside. We went straight to a classroom so she could calm down some more before actually going to church. That plan backfired, she screamed and yelled and threw things. Shes mad, shes pissed at the world. Church is starting. I try again to calm her down to no avail. She climbed on top of a shelving unit and sobbed and sobbed. And threw things. "I don't have anyone to play with" she screamed. I get it. I get it now. As calmly as possible I say "would you play with daddy if he were here?" at the top of her lungs she screamed "I can't play with daddy anymore"

Do you get it? Do you get it now? You see she always used to play with daddy at church. They would run around the church and play while I stood around and talked. It was one of her favorite things playing with daddy at church.  Unfortunately I can't read her mind but I think it may have gone something like this: I am going to run around and play with my friend at church today. O she's not coming, o well, I will just play with daddy instead, he's just as good.  It only takes that one thought, it only takes one second to have that overwhelming grief punch you in the stomach, no daddy won't play with me at church, daddy will never play with me at church again, daddy is never coming back, never.

You always know he's dead but sometimes it hits you in the stomach all over again and you can't breathe. When this happens to me I want to throw up and I usually end up on the ground crying, I want to throw things but I restrain myself. Baby Girl is 10 she doesn't care about restraint, she just throws things, she just screams, she just wants her daddy.

Eventually she falls to a heap on the floor, crying while I hold onto her withering body. Now we are calm enough to go home. Still crying, but calm enough that mommy can drive.  We walk out to the car and three different people come over to me and hug me. They could see Baby Girl's tear stained face. I have no idea if they know what just happened, I have no idea if they could hear Baby Girl screaming across the entire church. I have no idea if they knew this was all because of grief or if they thought I had just taken to beating my child. At the car another friend was waiting for me. The one I was supposed to sit by and go to lunch with.  She gets grief. On the verge of tears myself I say, "we just can't ever make it to church anymore" she replied, "you made it to church, your here, I saw you"

We went to church today.

I wrote a book about my grief, you can read it here: Carry on Castle

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