I remember when we first got the children. The boys came with a bag of girls clothes. It wasn't intentional, an accident of the "wrong bag". But the boys were so excited to go and pick out their own clothes, bedding, and etc. Jeff loved brand named items always. He loved the newness of new clothes- to have something noone else had ever had.
Every morning at Christmas, I would be amazed how he always got me the exact appliance I needed. I never told him, but he just watched me throughout the year and knew instinctively what I needed to make our busy lives easier. Jeff was good about that. He didn't show much emotion outright, but he showed it in so many small ways. So many "Jeff" ways.
I think the most amazing memory of Jeff at Christmas was the year I opened the gift from him and it was one of his favorite stuffed toys and whistles. I knew he had given me one of his precious treasures and it brought tears to my eyes. I looked at him and he looked at me and we knew...we knew the love was there. I remember through the years looking at that toy and remembering what that gift cost jeff. It cost him giving away something that was his and to a child who had everythig taken away from him, that was huge to give up a possession.
Last year he didn't have any money so he gave me a picture of a smurf that he'd colored. I know for a college kid that seems silly, but Jeff knew me so well that for me. I would rather have something they made for me than a million dollars. Today that picture is one of my most treasured gifts and will stay in my treasure chest where I keep all of my priceless possessions. The look on his face when he gave it to me was priceless...no apologies...just waiting for me to make over it which I did...
Last year he didn't have any money so he gave me a picture of a smurf that he'd colored. I know for a college kid that seems silly, but Jeff knew me so well that for me. I would rather have something they made for me than a million dollars. Today that picture is one of my most treasured gifts and will stay in my treasure chest where I keep all of my priceless possessions. The look on his face when he gave it to me was priceless...no apologies...just waiting for me to make over it which I did...
It had been very hard this Christmas season . The wave of grief has been hitting hard and knocking me over so much that I feel as if I will drowned in my tears. I compensate by pretending nothing is wrong, but it is. It is so very, very wrong. I cannot fathom how we decorated the tree without him. How we will make cookies, or food without him. Mainly I cannot imagine waking up Christmas morn without his smiling face always watching quietly from the sidelines to see what everyone else has gotten and if they are happy. His ornaments hang from the tree, but he is not here. His treasures and clothing lay in a trunk downstairs, but he is not there.
So I make my pilgrimage to the old cemetary and I place a poinsetta in the urn and I wipe off the snow...and he is not there. I stop, I stare, and long to see him where he is. My heart aches because I cannot be with him. I long to figure out all of this mess and to turn back the clock. Every song, evry place, every friend of his reminds me that he is not there. I do not know what will happen. I do not know how I will cope. I just know that I will. I will ride the ebb of this tormenting, agonizing grief, and I will overcome it. I will not ever be whole again. there will always be a huge piece of my heart missing. The tear will never really heal, it will just become a scar, that like any war wound, I will have stories and pictures to brag about. But it will still be that , a war wound. One whose battle I fought long and hard and lost; lost so dearly and lost so much. I didn't want to fight that fight. I didn't even want to be a soldier in that war, but I was "called" and try as I might to put a deaf ear on that call, I answered it with vigor. The call to be an adoptive Mom was so strong that it nearly bowled me over with the urging. God knew who we were and what we were capable of...or did He? But who am I to question His will when I have so very much to be thankful for.
I sometimes wonder if this time...this time He may have given me too much. I could handle raising these children, but I am sure having troubles with the burying part. This was not in those contracts, not on any dotted line. I want a "do over'...I want to escape back to last Christmas and hold Jeffrey in my arms and beg him to move home...I want to face possible hate and rejection...after all, anger would be better than this, right? I do not know. And I guess after a while I get tired of not knowing and looking to see if he is there.
Where is Jeffrey? Everyone says he is happy and he is in heaven...I know I believe it, but as a mother I cannot fathom that... I just cannot. I selfishly want him. I want to hold his hand, stroke his hair, cook for hime, fold his clothes, ....I sometimes wonder if I could unbury him and hold him forever. Does this make me crazy? I do not know- I've been crazy before over these kids.
Like the time the teacher made Timara take off her hat that she agreed Timara could wear for pictures and her hair stuck to her head. Then that teacher wouldn't let her call home to have me help her with her hair. Boy did I rake her over the coals. "Well Mrs. Burd, I have apolojized, what would you have me do?" the teacher said sarcastically. "I would have you make yesyterday never happen!" I blared back with my hands on my hip. "that is impossible", she said quietly. "Yes, and tell that to my daughters humiliated spirit." That teacher never messed with my kid again. I pulled her outta school and waited for a better one to come along.
Like the time that some kid called Dragos a retard and Timara picked the fat kid up, laid him on the ground and made him eat dirt. Noone messed with her brother, but her.
Like the time James through rocks at the school window to see how many it would take to break it....five...it takes five.
Like the time Lacey swallowed Campho Phenic and had to have her stomach pumped. If I hadn't insisted , "Do it- pump her stomach," that child would be here walking today.
Like the time Tierney read a book by herself after we struggled all year to get her caught up in reading. She graduated sixth grade with all her friends and I balwed in my seat.
Like the time Joshua had a severe pain in his abdoman and the docs couldn't figure out what was wrong and I insisted I stay overnight with him in the hospital. He didn't want to be babied, but I didn't care. i rubbed his head until he went to sleep and watched him all night.
Like the time Dragos beat all the fat kids in the 70 meter run in track and I wept on my knees as I cheered him on. Only to look in the stands and see everyone weeping too. Pretty good for a kid who wasn't supposed to live much else walk or talk.
Like the time I prayed to God to take Katce from this world when she had meningitous and was in so much pain- or give the pain to me- anything than watch her suffer so. And God broke that fever that very next minute.
Like the times I watched Kayla suffer as she wauted for her bio dad to show up even though he never did. how I buried her head in my lap, and figured out how to bail him outta jail so she could see him. I never told her where he was. A kid doesn't need to know that adults in their lives can be idiots.
Like the time I held jeff as he cried and cried because his heart was so broken that his bio dad walked away from him and didn't love him. I lied and said I knew his dad did that he was just too young and drugged out to keep him.Like the time I found Jeff hiding in a corner afraid to tell me he had wet the bed because he was afraid that I would make him sleep inthe bathtub with peed underwear on his head like had been done to him by other "parents". Like the time he begged me not to lock him in the closet when he was bad because it too had been done before. Like the time I held him while he was going through r
ritulan withdraw and fighting anyone in his path. Like the time I listened to him call me a "bitch" and telling me his whole life was my fault and watching him walk away. Like the time I lay on the floor with the flu and I puked and then Jeff puked together all day in pain, but together. Like the time Jeff stole our car because he couldn't deal with the fact that Katce may die of meningitous and begging someone to help him mentally. Like the time I didn't sleep all night because Jeff was angry and kept sleeping with weapons under his bed and praying he wouldn't hurt us. Like the time I begged the prosecuting attorney to just get Jeff help and drop the domestic abuse charges. Like the time I spent my whole week finding jeff a job, bringing him home to live, staying up with him, watching him every minute until I could get him talked into getting help and then when I did I found him the next day dead. And finally, like the time katce and I covered him with a blanket before they laid him in that cold ground to be buried forever.
I worry over them and mother over them all everyday. Death didn't stop that with my Jeffy. Even when he left our home, I still called in the storms to check on him. I still wonder if he is happy and what he is up to.My mothering him will never ever stop. is this normal? I do not know.
Like the time the teacher made Timara take off her hat that she agreed Timara could wear for pictures and her hair stuck to her head. Then that teacher wouldn't let her call home to have me help her with her hair. Boy did I rake her over the coals. "Well Mrs. Burd, I have apolojized, what would you have me do?" the teacher said sarcastically. "I would have you make yesyterday never happen!" I blared back with my hands on my hip. "that is impossible", she said quietly. "Yes, and tell that to my daughters humiliated spirit." That teacher never messed with my kid again. I pulled her outta school and waited for a better one to come along.
Like the time that some kid called Dragos a retard and Timara picked the fat kid up, laid him on the ground and made him eat dirt. Noone messed with her brother, but her.
Like the time James through rocks at the school window to see how many it would take to break it....five...it takes five.
Like the time Lacey swallowed Campho Phenic and had to have her stomach pumped. If I hadn't insisted , "Do it- pump her stomach," that child would be here walking today.
Like the time Tierney read a book by herself after we struggled all year to get her caught up in reading. She graduated sixth grade with all her friends and I balwed in my seat.
Like the time Joshua had a severe pain in his abdoman and the docs couldn't figure out what was wrong and I insisted I stay overnight with him in the hospital. He didn't want to be babied, but I didn't care. i rubbed his head until he went to sleep and watched him all night.
Like the time Dragos beat all the fat kids in the 70 meter run in track and I wept on my knees as I cheered him on. Only to look in the stands and see everyone weeping too. Pretty good for a kid who wasn't supposed to live much else walk or talk.
Like the time I prayed to God to take Katce from this world when she had meningitous and was in so much pain- or give the pain to me- anything than watch her suffer so. And God broke that fever that very next minute.
Like the times I watched Kayla suffer as she wauted for her bio dad to show up even though he never did. how I buried her head in my lap, and figured out how to bail him outta jail so she could see him. I never told her where he was. A kid doesn't need to know that adults in their lives can be idiots.
Like the time I held jeff as he cried and cried because his heart was so broken that his bio dad walked away from him and didn't love him. I lied and said I knew his dad did that he was just too young and drugged out to keep him.Like the time I found Jeff hiding in a corner afraid to tell me he had wet the bed because he was afraid that I would make him sleep inthe bathtub with peed underwear on his head like had been done to him by other "parents". Like the time he begged me not to lock him in the closet when he was bad because it too had been done before. Like the time I held him while he was going through r
ritulan withdraw and fighting anyone in his path. Like the time I listened to him call me a "bitch" and telling me his whole life was my fault and watching him walk away. Like the time I lay on the floor with the flu and I puked and then Jeff puked together all day in pain, but together. Like the time Jeff stole our car because he couldn't deal with the fact that Katce may die of meningitous and begging someone to help him mentally. Like the time I didn't sleep all night because Jeff was angry and kept sleeping with weapons under his bed and praying he wouldn't hurt us. Like the time I begged the prosecuting attorney to just get Jeff help and drop the domestic abuse charges. Like the time I spent my whole week finding jeff a job, bringing him home to live, staying up with him, watching him every minute until I could get him talked into getting help and then when I did I found him the next day dead. And finally, like the time katce and I covered him with a blanket before they laid him in that cold ground to be buried forever.
I worry over them and mother over them all everyday. Death didn't stop that with my Jeffy. Even when he left our home, I still called in the storms to check on him. I still wonder if he is happy and what he is up to.My mothering him will never ever stop. is this normal? I do not know.
I just want this ache to stop overtaking me. i want to just be soft, and peaceful and quiet inside. most days I am, but not today. because jeffy is not there. he is not where I expect him nor where I want him to be. I will have to reast in the fact that this Christmas will happen, it will come and go and we will make new memories...but that Jeff will not be there....
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