Not Okay

Every time someone asks me how I’m doing I usually respond with “okay” or surviving”. The truth is though, that while I guess I am surviving I am not even close to being okay. I’m either not doing well or worse. There is no okay about it. Even when I look okay I certainly don’t feel okay. Words cannot begin to accurately describe how I feel. Words like shattered, heartbroken, devastated, broken, anguished, despairing, wrecked, traumatized and crushed could be used to describe how I feel but even they don’t grasp the depths of the emotions. I feel all those things to the extreme. What I do know is okay is not an adjective that fits. There is nothing okay about this. There is nothing okay about how I feel. So when I see you and tell you I’m okay, know that I’m really not. I don’t know when I’ll be okay again.

I’m sitting in Starbucks waiting to meet someone. Now playing on the radio is Elton John’s Tiny Dancer. A song played at Ariella’s funeral. Cue waterworks. How am I supposed to function in life when I can’t go in public without the threat of tears? How can I function when the smallest thing can trigger that huge wave of grief to come crashing over me? I did visit Ariella before coming here and asked for a sign. Maybe this is my sign. I don’t know. But it hurts.

No one really knows what to say to a grieving parent. Hell, I don’t even know the right words to say because there are no right words. And that may make it difficult to approach a grieving parent. That may be why grieving parents tend to lose friends and family. Because they stay away because they don’t know what to say. Don’t say nothing. That is isolating for the grieving parent. But be honest. Say “I don’t know what to say.” Say “I’m here for you”. Say “I’m listening.” Say “I’ll sit with you. We can talk or not.” No words are going to give comfort but your presence just might. We used to have a mailman that we talked with regularly. He did our route for years. He knew us and Ariella and always made sure to chat with us if we were outside when he was bringing the mail. He was also my father’s mailman and when my father was in Florida he always checked on him, asked how he was doing. After Ariella was diagnosed he always asked after her as well if he didn’t see her. We hadn’t seen him for a while recently and I guess his route changed. He knew Ariella had relapsed last year but we hadn’t seen him since she went in for bone marrow transplant so he had no idea about the ICU or any of it. One day a few weeks ago David saw him and he asked after Ariella. David had to tell him. The next day he was on our route again and he went out of his way to knock on our door to express his condolences to me. He didn’t say much. He didn’t know what to say. I don’t even think he said as much as sorry. Because he knew. There are no words. He just gave me a hug. And that was all that was needed. I know that had to be hard for him. Many just avoid the grieving parents. But he didn’t. Even though he didn’t know what to say he made sure to be there. To let us know he was there. Even when he didn’t have to.

I know most people are well-intentioned so I didn’t want to do a “what not to say.” But some things have been said to me that really rub me the wrong way. Not only do they not help, but I even found some of them to be hurtful. Things like “she’s in a better place.” I disagree. I cannot conceive of a better place for a child than with her parents. Whatever your beliefs, they are not mine. “G-d needed another angel” or “it’s in G-d’s plans” or any other reason having to do with G-d. Again that is not helpful at all. Because I don’t care what G-d’s plans are. Our daughter should be here with us. To me there is not a single good reason for a child to die. None whatsoever. Nothing about G-d’s plan can make up for not having our daughter here on earth with us. “Everything happens for a reason.” Another nope. Again there is no good reason for a child to die. And say there truly is a reason, to make parents suffer a lifetime without their child until they find out the ultimate reason or plan is not okay. If it truly is G-d’s plan (which I don’t believe) I want to know it right here, right now because this life I’m living, without reason or purpose, is torture. Any sentence that starts with “At least…” There is no single “at least” out there that will make the death of my child worth it. None, zero, zip, zilch. Again, I know it’s well intentioned but it really bothers me when it doesn’t occur to people that my beliefs may be different than yours. I’m not sure how many times I’ve been told that Ariella is okay because she’s with Jesus. We are Jewish, not Christian. Our beliefs about G-d and the afterlife are different. Telling me she is with Jesus completely disregards the fact that there are many religions out there with different beliefs so to just assume we believe the same thing is not okay. Comments like that are not helpful in the least, even if that’s what you believe. I’m happy for people who have strong faith because I just don’t anymore but putting your faith on me doesn’t provide comfort or peace. A simple “I’m sorry for your loss” will suffice.

Finally, if I’m talking about how hard things are or how poorly I’m doing, don’t turn around and make my grief about you. Don’t tell me you are feeling the same way about the loss of Ariella. Because you’re not. Only David can tell me that. We understand that everyone who knows and loves Ariella is sad and grieving in their own way. But it doesn’t compare to what David and I are going through and we cannot carry anyone else’s grief. No matter how much I write, how much I try to explain, no one other than parents who have been through this can begin to really understand how we are feeling. I am exhausted and can only deal with my feelings right now, and David’s. I don’t have the energy to comfort others. Just agree with me that it’s shitty. That it sucks. Don’t try to fix it by using meaningless platitudes or telling me that you feel just as awful. Don’t diminish my feelings by trying to make them go away. You can’t fix it, you can’t make me feel better. I can’t speak for all grieving parents but I do think it’s safe to say that most just want a comforting presence, someone who will listen or just be willing to sit quietly, and who will agree that the situation is horrific without trying to fix it.

I know people who make the above comments are just trying to provide comfort without really knowing the right words. But those comments do not take into account the fact grieving parents may have different beliefs than you. And all any grieving parent wants is to have their child here with them. Nothing else will make it better.

This post is kind of all over. But that’s how I’ve been lately. My mind doesn’t focus on one thing. I get distracted and can’t focus on anything and my mind wanders. I guess I’m just saying this to remind anyone who sends messages or texts, that if I can’t respond immediately I most likely will forget to respond. I’m not ignoring you on purpose. My brain just isn’t functioning well these days. Don’t take it personally.