My Broken Children


This morning the kids and I went to Bailey’s therapist for her weekly cognitive behavior therapy.  Reagan was in a dark place, so I asked if he could also receive some light counseling, just for today, to see if he would not be resistant to it.

He was very resistant, and got increasingly louder and louder. He didn’t want to talk about his father to anyone, and it was “no one’s business”. Everyone “was stupid”. All of these protests aside, I completed his paperwork, and the doc came into the waiting room with her service husky, and took him into her office.  He only went willingly, because he wanted to pet the dog, so I thank God for that beautiful animal.

Reagan has been diagnosed with PTSD.  He is 11 years old. The events leading up to his father’s untimely death, and how Reagan woke up, right next to his father’s body… he screamed and worked hard to revive him….it is too much for a child.  It is too much for a grown man or woman.  He needs more help, and I have known this for some time now, and though he has been receiving counseling via the school district, there have been no resources during the summertime.

I am hoping this doctor can continue to Reagan manage his grief in productive manners, and make him feel like his sadness is normal, and that it is okay to cry, and it is okay to miss his father.  I can talk to him about this every single day, for the rest of his life, but I am too close, and he tends to lend a deaf ear in my direction. Reagan needs help.  He feels guilty for not waking up his dad, and for not breathing life back into him.  Bailey needs help.  She is lost and confused, and she doesn’t know what to do with this huge pile of sadness, but to grow increasingly agitated with all of her usual triggers, but struggling even harder now, to come down from them. Our family is in distress, but I am getting help, and that is all that I can do, but to be a constant force of stability.

How does this happen to our CHILDREN?  We lay down our LIFE for them, and they still get wounded. Something like this happens suddenly…..and their entire world is turned upside down. Something like this happens gradually…where they have time to process….but their world still crashes down.  They are defiant, disrespectful, and they push down all of that pain, and walk forward without a scratch, but they are forever broken.  The only relief that you can offer is an embracing hug, and a reassurance that they are loved.  You can’t give them the reassurance that you will never die, because that would be a lie, and what a cruel one it would be, if you died tomorrow, and they had no parents at all.

Bestill my broken heart.  Today has been the death of me.  Ever since Ross passed away in his sleep, I have always said, “as long as my kids are okay, then I am okay”, but they are not okay.

Please pray for my little family.


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Being broken isn’t just a state of mind.  It is the feeling of instability, an aching fear of change, the terror of letting go, when all you want to do is stay under your rock, where it is dark, but safe and familiar. Being silly with your children, laughing with the outside world, but crumbling slowing inside.  Reassuring everyone that all is well, when it is not.  Once you have seen death, everything that you see, feel, and touch, is never the same.

It is a different journey for everyone, and there are different shapes and shades of grief.  There should never, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, be any judgment placed upon those who are weighed down with grief.  If you do not wake up with that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach every morning…. if you do not physically ache to your very core, for that one person that completed your circle :'(  If you HAVE had these feelings of despair, then judging someone else is even more damaging, because you are familiar with a tiny FRACTION of how brutal that loss is. What you don’t know, is what is bubbling at their surface, while they are living, and appearing to laugh, when their insides are decaying and fighting for survival. That is grief in a nutshell.  Survival.

You can never recover from being broken.  You will never get over it, nor will you ever be healed from it.  It is now a part of you, and it will always live inside of you.  There is no coming out of that dark place, but there are candles, stars, and there is almost ALWAYS, that one hand, reaching up, grasping for anyone that might grab a hold, and pull them out, even if just for a moment.  Perhaps those moments will come more often, and that dark place will not be so tender and raw.

Ross was such a happy man, full of such love for his family, and such a joy for life.  It is beyond my comprehension, that he was suddenly taken away, and I will never believe he is “better off”, because I need to visually see that he is better off….but I can’t even FEEL that he is better off.  All that I can see, is that he missed his firstborn’s college graduation, his younger son’s 11th birthday, and he is going to miss Bailey blossoming into a beautiful young girl.  He is going to miss everything. I can say that he is with us in spirit, but physically, he is not.  In reality, it is the kids and I, and we are left to pick up all the pieces that were left behind.  We are expected to take the hits as they come, and just survive, because Ross is “in a better place now”.

Yes, I am bitter.  Yes, I am lost.  I have struggled to find any and all ways to feel better, and at peace, with what has happened.  It is a constant push and pull.  A never ending battle with myself, and a war that I will never win.  And still, my prayers never stop, and my motherly arms never leave my children, and their aching empty hearts. I would give my life to take away all of their pain, but I cannot.

I miss him so much.  I miss hearing his voice every day, and making wisecracks to each other, and laughing so hard that my sides hurt.  I miss his goofy expressions, his crazy little dances, and that out of control laugh during tickle fights.  Mostly though…..I miss the reassurance, security…..and I miss the way I knew he would never leave, and never hurt me.  Right in this moment, I cannot fathom ever trusting another soul this way again.  I have had a tiny taste of this life of isolation, and I am not wanting to take another step towards anyone who means me any harm.  I pray that isn’t true, because I want to find love and happiness, but it is what it is….and it is a whole lot of NOTHING right now.