There is a scene in the movie “Homeless to Harvard” where the lead character Liz Murry is asked about her life and what she would change if she could. She has just been offered a full scholarship to Harvard.
She ponders this question for about a half a second and replies, “I’d give it all up, if I could have my family back.” Both of her parents have passed away from AIDS by the time she conquers this goal. As wonderful as Harvard will be for her, and as amazing as her story is, she would give it all up if she could simply have her family intact.
I totally get this.
A fellow angel mom came to The MollyB Extravaganza with her family. When we were touching base and saying our goodbyes she said, “it is too bad we have to have these events, but this was wonderful.”
And she is right.
The event itself filled me with love and joy and relief. A couple hundred people coming together in honor of sweet Molly and her legacy was just what my soul needed. The fact that we must celebrate her legacy rather than the last nine years of her life as a live person will be a gut punch forever and always.
Preparing for this Extravaganza is difficult. I want everything to be perfect. I want it to go off without a hitch. I want lots of people to attend. At the very same time I am angry that I have to do this Extravaganza at all. I hate every minute of it. It’s not fair.
Dealing with the loss of a child is grief of an endless nature. When an elderly relative dies the ache is strong, but the loss not unexpected. While you may wish they were still here, it is easier to feel gratitude for the time you had with them. They were here for a normal amount of time after all.
When a child dies, every milestone that passes without your child is a slap in the face. While I am obviously grateful for having had Molly, I am mostly pissed off that she is dead. It sucks. It is not fair. It hurts me. Thirteen years one month and a day as a human outside of my tummy is not close to long enough. Even the nine months I carried her do not make the time long enough.
It is a cruel joke.
Amid all this emotional chaos The MollyB Extravaganza was wonderful.
Nazzy and Sean provided the very best music and kept the dance floor hopping.
Concord Dance Academy, The Children’s Theater Project, and RB Productions all sent amazing young performers to showcase what the performing arts community is like in Concord.
Alan’s Restaurant provided delicious food and tremendous service, and also managed feeding the 15 pizzas provided by Constantly to herds of hungry children.
Savvy Sweets and Treats provided the most delicious cupcakes, a variety of flavors and an allergy friendly, gluten and egg free version that was fantastic.
Piper and Ellie Balloon Company created an aura of festivity that captured the fun of the event.
The first ever presentation of The Spirit of MollyB Award to Cindy Flanagan and Steve Martin, (and given to John Gfroerer posthumously) brought Molly’s legacy to the crowd and reminded everyone how important exposure to the arts is for young people. It was heartwarming and heart breaking to hear them speak to the crowd.
So, as I write this it has been just about three days since the big event. I am still quite “hungover” from the event. I am tired. I am anxious. I am sad. I am relieved, I am happy. I am grateful.
I am a million emotions all at once.
This is grief. This is child loss.
This is me.