The hardest thing that I ever had to hear was that my child died. The hardest thing I have had to do is continue to live every day since that moment. On that fateful day, I not only lost my daughter, but I lost myself; I was no longer the same person. I was not only mourning the loss of my daughter, but the loss of who I was.
I felt powerless, desperate, hopeless and completely heartbroken. I am by nature a doer, a fixer; if a problem arises, I find a solution, and nothing ever seemed unattainable. Although I faced many challenges that were at times hard to foresee the light at the end of the tunnel, I always persevered and knew resolution was imminent. I never lost hope because it was always present. I knew that Rachel’s death was something I would not be able to fix and that was the most agonizing feeling.
What was even more difficult was that I never had a real belief or thought much about what happens when we die. Sure, I had those fleeting thoughts about heaven and hell. I always felt that if there was truly a G-D he would recognize the good people and if Heaven existed he would graciously bring us to be with him. I am not at all religious and must say I was not very spiritual either, but I live my life honestly and treat everyone kindly. I am a humanitarian and am genuinely concerned for and about the wellbeing of others. My life has been about helping others and it has been tremendously rewarding. I can recall a few patients I saw in my practice who came to therapy after losing a child. I found myself feeling envious of those who believed their child was in the most beautiful place and felt peace and comfort in knowing that they were with the great almighty G-D. The struggles they were having were not accepting the death of their child, but rather learning to live on this Earth without them. I remember thinking how amazing it must be to have such a strong faith and rather than being angry and bitter, they felt at peace because their child was chosen by G-D to live in eternal bliss.
It was not until Rachel died that I realized the importance of believing in something. After she died, I spent days and nights wondering if she was ok, was she in pain, was she scared, was she sad. The thoughts were debilitating. I am the person who is supposed to protect her and I had no idea where she was. I felt “lost” and panicked. I can honestly say I never really understood the feeling of desperation and heartbreak until Rachel’s death. I began reading books, met with my Rabbi, spoke with psychics and would find myself pleading with Rachel to please let me know she was all right. I found myself sending her messages on her Facebook, posting to her on her page, and even sent her a few emails. Of course I knew that this was extreme, but I desperately needed to connect to her and I just did not know how.
I will always be her mother and never for a moment stop worrying about her. A mother instinctively protects her child and now, as a grieving mother, all I can do is protect her memories, talk about her to anyone who will listen and simply keep her spirit alive. I never imagined that I would have to live another day on this earth without her since the day she was born. I of course feared it, like most parents do, but it was not something I spent my days worrying about. Ironically, Rachel always worried about me dying. Since she was a young girl, she had a tremendous fear that I was going to die and even at the age of 17, she would call me up just to make sure I was ok. I used to get angry with her, but she would say, “I could not continue to live without you; I need you.”
I still do not have the answers I crave and will never have resolution, but I do have those memories and have come to a place where I am thankful for the 17 years I had with her and feel so lucky to have been chosen to be her mom. I have been keeping myself busy writing this book, setting up a scholarship in her name and establishing Rachel’s Writers, a non-profit foundation encouraging teens to tap into their creativeness, improve their self-esteem and build leadership skills. This foundation will encourage youngsters to dig deep within themselves and gain self-insight through the wonderful gift of writing. (www.Rachelswriters.com)
Rachel’s writings were her therapy and helped her express her feelings and gain insight on what she wanted out of life. She found writing to be a safe and effective tool to express her inner feelings in a manner that allowed her to grow and release her thoughts and feelings.
It is so easy to consume oneself with the grief and sadness, but I do still have two children who need me. I realize they not only lost their sister, but in a sense they lost their mom. I do not laugh as much as I used to, and I cry often, which is something they rarely ever saw me do before. I believe they always viewed me as a “superwoman” and it’s hard for them to see the rawness and pain I am in every day.
So yes, I am not the same, but neither is my life. I will admit that I have learned a lot since Rachel died. I am still not a “religious” person, but I do believe in the afterlife and even reincarnation. I will never feel at peace with her death, but I do believe she is at peace and doing great things, far more important than she could have done here. I am not bitter or angry, just sad. I am changed, yes, but I will not allow this to change my values, morals or ethics. I will still continue to treat people kindly and help anyone I can, because this is who I am, what makes me happy and more importantly, these are qualities Rachel always admired within me. I believe that there is nothing worse than losing your child and in my mind living on Earth without them is the worst kind of HELL I could ever imagine.
So Very True