This has been a tough week.
Molly’s death week anniversary, the changes in how we recognize this time period, and my expectations of how others in my life should take part took a larger toll this year than last. I always feel like if I don’t organize everything and make sure it happens then it won’t. Last year I organized a MollyWOD event and took a group of people out to lunch after a noon time visit to the grave. We did lanterns at night with a pretty sizable group.
Not this year.
I did not organize an event at my gym and no one asked about it so that tells me it is time to move on. (At least for now). Kenny and I went to the grave at noon and sat there alone for quite a while. Gracie went fishing with her boyfriend. She did show up for the lanterns but that was it. She went to Target afterwards.
I am trying to be ok with this.
We all grieve differently. If she wants to stop commemorating May 7th in a ceremonial sort of way that is fine. It is her journey. The hard part for me is I did not hear from anyone in my immediate family. My older brother Rick commented on a Facebook thread but that’s it. Not a peep from my brother Jonathan, my sister Johanna, my mother or my father.
I am not going to lie, three days later and I am still crying off and on.
I did not need them to come with me to the grave. I did not need them to light lanterns. I get it. These events can be hard. But they either forgot or they remembered and did not think to reach out. Either way, I am dumbfounded.
A recent Facebook post about this garnered a good response. Lots of folks apologizing for not reaching out. I am fine with the people outside my family responding later or even not at all. Molly is fading into the past. It has been half her life time since she was here. I know she is remembered. She is loved.
But on this day, the day we unplugged her and left her in a drawer what I needed and expected was family. A call or a text. It was a beautiful sunny day; we could have had a picnic. I know, I know, I could have called. I could have reached out. But if I am the one that always has to reach out, especially for comfort on the anniversary of my daughter’s death then perhaps it is time to accept a reality that makes me sad.
You will read this May 11th. This is the day we buried her. There was a lot of family that day and it is the only reason I made it through. I am hoping to hear from someone. Perhaps a Facebook memory will remind them. I don’t know.
I guess it shouldn’t matter.
The emotions, actions and memories of my family do not affect my emotions actions and memories. I can remain angry and cry or I can shake my self off and get back to it. Perhaps my anger is a reflection of my shortcomings. Perhaps I am mad at myself. Again, I don’t know.
I will say this.
In the three days since Molly’s death day, I have begun a physical health journey that I hope will take me to the CrossFit Games in two years’ time. I have continues collecting sorting and bagging contributions to the MollyB Foundation Clothing and Shoe drive. I have coached and I have worked out. I had a lovely visit with a new friend named Linda and I coached four classes at my home gym.
I had a 90-minute therapy session with Carolina.
I get more out of these sessions than I could have ever imagined. She is amazing. We sort through the chaos inside my head and fins those small connections that do big things. As I complete this heart dump of a blog post the sun is setting and I am heading to school board.
Life goes on. I am not sure what this experience is meant to teach me but I am manifesting an attitude of open understanding. I am channeling grace and acceptance. I am breathing in gratitude. While I can not fix or change or mold my family into what I think they should be, I can fic, change and mold myself, and, I can accept me for me and love that little girl inside of me and let her know that I love her.