I truly do not know how to be happy without Charlie in my life. He was so special and so warm and so smart and so funny and so thoughtful and I loved him so much. I want to get back to "normal" or something like that, but how? I don't want to talk to anyone or see anyone. I sit and stare at something, then realize it's been an hour. Today I saw one of the closest friends I have and I couldn't look her in the eye. I cry every single day. Everything reminds me of him.
The thought of life without him is... I don't know. I don't feel like I can do it.
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you can do it. you have to. for charlie. he wouldn't want you to not do it, ya know? it will take time. and lots of it. be patient and kind with yourself. give yourself time and lots of it. it's ok to be however you are. people just want to help and they don't know how. if you need to sit and stare, sit and stare. just know we are all here if and when you need us for anything. we can't make it all better, but we can be someone you lean on or talk to or whatever you need for you. you are loved by so many and our hearts are breaking for you sweetie. i can't imagine the depths of your loss. i want to protect my family from that. no one should endure that. ever. i'm sorry you have to. i wish i could make it better. but i can't. just know i'm here for you. for whatever you need. i'm holding you in my heart, really really tight.
xoxox
shauna
Sue, you have seen Charlie through enough to know that there is no "normal." There is only the new normal, whatever that is. And whatever the new normal is, it's what you make it to be. AND, no one expects you to find out what the new normal is just yet. Only you know what you're going through, but I would say that you need time to recuperate from your heart break, just like people need time to recuperate from physical injury. It's no different, except that it probably takes even longer.
I remember, after getting my cancer diagnosis, that I really hit the skids and was having frequent panic attacks in my friend Lisa's office at work. I thought I was going to die, not figuratively, but literally. I was sure that I wouldn't make it to Dinah and Djuna's fifth birthday.
Then one morning before work we were all racing around, getting ready for the day. I was already feeling that prickly sensation and knowing that it was going to be another awful day.
Dinah and Djuna were at the breakfast table, talking about Bambi. My heart started to race because, of course, Bambi's mother dies in that stinking story, and I thought I'd have a heart attack on the spot. But then, Djuna took her little toy deer and said emphatically, "In THIS story, Bambi's mother doesn't die."
I couldn't believe it. My own little daughter was showing me that we don't know how our stories are going to turn out, and they don't have to turn out the way we think they're going to.
Sue, you don't have to take charge of your story right now. Your story can take a break, hide in a hole, go underground, whatever it needs to do until you're ready to come out and see the light.
The rest of your story is yet to be written, when you are feeling stronger. Just think of Djuna's little insistent voice, saying, "In THIS story ... " (To be continued ... )
And whatever it is, it will be written in kindness and strength, filled with the Sue-ness that cheers us all and that Charlie loved and that will make Charlie proud.
Don't lose hope.
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