All too Soon
All too Soon
Today was never supposed to come so soon. Ideally, it was never supposed to come at all. And if you were really honest, you would have liked to not have been around. But alas you never were that lucky. Today will forever be the very definition of hell.
When you are younger, you hear people describe how they thought particular monumental days would go. In fact, you're almost surrounded by them. People sing songs about how the day was supposed to rain when a partner left them, or how ones wedding should be bright and sunny. It's as though we expect the weather to reflect our personalities and feelings. As though we want, and sometimes need it to. On the whole it's very clichéd. You had never been one of those people. Never.
Five years ago, your husband left. It hurt. You cried. But you got over it. He clearly was over you. Less than five months later he married another woman; that hurt too. On both occasions, the day had been nothing but beautiful. The sun beamed down on your face, as you and Katie played in the backyard. You were princesses, independent and without needing a knight-in-shining-armour. 'Penny' was your faithful stead. The world, on the surface at least, seemed like heaven. It was your life and you were living it the way you wanted.
Kevin, as you recall, was standing behind the double glass sliding doors. He was watching you play, watching you live and move on. He left, and you knew instantly when he had. You wanted to cry, to scream, to haul things, but you had a child. A child who depended heavily, and now solely, on you. Rather than follow him, you stayed and played. You beat that archaic dragon and overthrew the evil Queen. You lived.
But right now, as you sit in this small wooden hospital chair, you know exactly how those people with their stories felt. Sometimes you just need the weather to be in sync with your mood. To makes things easier, to make it bearable. But once again, the sun is course it would be shining, it exists to mock you these days. You could have sworn it was baiting you. Lets see you live through this, Emmy. To add insult to injury, you hear the nurses talking about the beach, and the million other things they would rather be doing. From that moment on, you are worlds apart. No one would understand what you were going through. They aren't you. For the first time in your life, you aren't so sure you could be you. You aren't sure you could survive. You don't want to survive.
Kevin sits next to you. He slumps motionlessly in the chair, eyes trained on the opposite wall. He hasn't said anything since returning to the room, some thirty minutes before. You're not sure you want him too. Nursing your head in your hands, you try to figure out exactly where everything went wrong. You want something to blame. You need it. This is all too soon. It is something neither one of you could handle.
Katie had celebrated her seventh birthday just weeks before. She had been happy. You had been happy. Your little girl was growing up so fast. Kevin and Lucy had come over for dinner. Despite the past, you were working things out well. While he had never fought you for custody, you knew without a doubt he'd want to be part of her life. His last look behind those doors told you that.
Katie had been part of her first ballet recital, and had even tried her hand at netball. There was no sign of what was to come. You rack your brain in vain. You need that sign. You need something to blame, even if it is yourself. You needed the distraction.
You weren't a bad mother. You knew that for certain. You had supported your daughter. You had cared for her. Loved her. Sheltered and fed her. When she was sick, you stayed up all night with her. Slept on the edge of her bed when she was afraid of the dark. You were a mess when she went to school, but so proud when she came home. She was your lifeline. Your everything. Despite all this, you felt guilty. You believed that you should have felt as though you were a bad mother. It might have made it easier.
Being a bad mother would offer someone to blame. An outlet. Something to understand. You test this theory out. You convince yourself that you are a failure. You become someone else. Someone you are not. No matter how much you tried, you couldn't fully believe in it. You knew the truth and that hurt more than anything else.
Then the thought occurs to you. How permanent is motherhood? Is it classified only as long as your child lives? Or is it as long as you live? Did Katie's passing mean you weren't a mother anymore?. If you were no longer a mother, did that mean you had failed unknowingly and that's why Katie had been taken so suddenly from you? Did the past, the present, and the future decide motherhood? Receiving no answers, you break down.
That night, you sleep in Katie's bed. You need to smell her scent, hear her laugh, and see her smiling face. You dream of happier times. You wake and for one blissful minute, yesterday has not happened. You still have your daughter. You have your Katie in your arms.
Please R&R. I greatly Appreciate it!