Tag: grief

World Mental Health Day

stephaniemoorewrites

Since Rory’s death our family has dealt with depression, panic attacks, anxiety, suicide ideation, and PTSD.

The trauma of her loss, the trauma of the night, has brought each of us to our knees in different ways.

The road we’re walking with each other is painful and difficult.

As we each deal with our grief in diverse ways, there are times we struggle to understand the other’s.

As the panic engulfs one of us, literally taking his breath away, we search for the right words to say.

As depression and guilt grip one of us, squeezing us to the point it feels easier to give in than to fight, we hold on to the one.

When the thoughts play over and over in one of our minds relentlessly, we try to love and distract.

This is an unexpected road and, if I’m being honest, really terrifying.

In many ways I don’t know how to help or what to do. I’m so grateful for the professional help we’re receiving.

The one thing I tell my boys and I always want them to know is that I’m here.

I’m here.

I love them.

No matter what.

Forever.

If you know someone who’s struggling, reach out.

If you’re struggling, reach out.

You’re important.

You’re loved.

You’re not alone.

Sleep, Dream, and Our Family of Five

stephaniemoorewrites

I don’t sleep well.

I had trouble sleeping before Rory died.

Since, it plunged to a whole new depth.

One of the side effects of not sleeping is I don’t dream very often. It seems like I don’t get into a deep enough sleep.

So when I do sleep, when I do dream, it’s significant to me.

Last night, though, was hard.

I did dream.

I dreamt we were at a restaurant and people kept taking our seats. Finally I got kind of irritated and told someone off.

I said something like, “We’ve been waiting and that table should be ours. Plus, it’s big enough to sit our family of five.”

I woke up.

My subconscious is now used to thinking “family of five”.

Sigh.

I hate that.

We’re not a family of five.

We’re a family of six.

But one is no longer here to sit with us.

One no longer needs a ticket.

One no longer needs a seat in the car.

Or a place to sleep in our hotel room.

While she’ll always be a part of our family.

She no longer gets to be involved in our everyday.

So for many things we are a family of five now.

With our sixth waiting for us in heaven.

Lance’s Birthday

stephaniemoorewrites

It’s this dudes birthday today. Happy birthday, Love.

Birthdays aren’t easy anymore. They’re reminders of lost years and the gaping hole.

But I’m so glad you were born.

I’m lucky to be your wife and best friend.

Since Rory died, life feels long.

It feels shorter walking next you.

Love you.

Readying for the Fall Storm

stephaniemoorewrites

I went to Costco the other day and they have this big Halloween costume display.

Front and center was the Wonder Woman costume.

I gripped the cart, fought back tears.

Here we go again.

What gives Fall the right?

Why does Fall have the audacity to keep coming every year?

It gave up that right the day my daughter died.

It’s not okay.

Previously, it was cooler temperatures, changing leaves, school starting, pumpkin treats, and fun holidays.

Now, it’s dread, panic, sadness, loss, and missing. So much missing.

I can it feel inside me already.

I’m planting my feet.

Readying my legs.

I’ve got my head down.

The wind stirs around me.

Please, Heavenly Father, give us strength to weather this storm.

Dax is Finding Joy in Gymnastics Again

stephaniemoorewrites

If Rory’s death was the only struggle our family had to get through for the rest of our lives, it would be enough.

Her death hit each of us, leaving cracks in so many places. I’ve found that pain finds its way into those cracks, spreading into different aspects of our lives.

For Dax, the unexpected crack, the unexpected pain, was gymnastics.

Dax started gym at age 5. He spent the entire summer begging me to do gymnastics.

I thought maybe it was more of a whim, but when it lasted the entire summer, I signed him up in September. One day a week on Thursdays.

After starting gym his first question everyday was, “Is it Thursday?” Then he spent the day doing handstands and cartwheels all over the house.

Because of his love and insistence, I signed him up for Tuesday as well.

In a few months they invited him into the pre-comp team then within a year he was moved up to the competition team.

We were out of our depths and didn’t know what we were getting into until it was too late.

But it never mattered because he LOVED gymnastics.

Fast forward to a few months after Rory’s death.

I was saying goodnight to him in bed and he expressed regret that he spent so much time away from Rory doing gymnastics. And now he doesn’t have anymore.

In the following months, he talked about quitting a few times which was so unusual for him. He stopped doing gymnastics around the house. He hardly ever went to do flips on the trampoline.

But Lance and I kept encouraging him. He found so much joy in gymnastics, we didn’t want him to regret leaving the sport.

The last couple of weeks, he’s been doing handstands all over the house again. He walks from the couch to the kitchen on his hands. Dax annoys Lance by doing handstands right into his face.

It’s made my heart swell to see him loving gymnastics again. I’ve fought back tears seeing his love and passion return.

Rory didn’t love going to the long competitions but she did love to watch Dax do gymnastics at home. She also loved to push her brother out of handstands every once in a while too.

I think she’s happy to see that joy returning to Dax.

Rory’s attempt at doing a press handstand on Dax’s parallettes.