This has been one hell of a rough week. We had our first Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year) without Jaidon. We hit the three month mark since the accident. Seeing some of the IG posts from his friends really hit hard. It is so apparent at how close this group of friends were, and still are. Yesterday, Facebook reminded me that 5 years ago, Jaidon and Kyra had their B’nai Mitzvah. The year of “firsts” is just awful.
I have found that being at work, trying to mold the minds of 3rd graders, who have missed so much, keeps my mind busy and occupied. I am thankful that I have an amazing team and extremely understanding co-workers. Sometimes, I just need a 5 minute meltdown, and they all allow it and support it.
I see the girls working through the processes of grief, and it pains me to see them hurt. I know there is nothing I can do to make it better, other than being there to support them and hold them tight. I know that is more important than ever to say, “I love you, what do you need from me?”
My heart breaks every morning. I hear Jessica crying at various times. Usually, it is at 2 or 3 in the morning. The only thing to do is give her my hand, or hold her close, and let her cry or cry together. I hope that she can find a way to not hurt so bad every day.
Today, for the first time in forever, I donated blood. Something that my blood pressure has not let me do in a long time. Donating blood has significance for me. One reason is because it is 9/11. The other is that although I know that Jaidon died on impact and did not need it, I often wonder if there would have been a supply if he did. What if Camille, Anders, or Derrick had needed it. It is such a small thing to do, but can mean all the difference.
After the donation, I got a call from Laylie. There was a nice bubble of water on the ceiling in the kitchen. The tub was leaking. Time to call a plumber, at emergency rates of course. Not too long ago, I would have been so angry. Not today. This is such a small blip in the grand scheme of things. The ceiling is replaceable. I won’t grieve for a ceiling.
Today, tell your loved ones how much they mean to you. Mend relationships if you can, but put the people that you know will be there at the drop of a hat first. Look at the world a little differently. Look through the eyes of a child or someone who has suffered tragic loss. Maybe your day will be a better.