Sorrow

Last week, a friend kissed her kids goodbye as they went to school. Three left, and only two came home. Her 7 year old was killed in a car accident that afternoon. How does one ever manage to go on after that? Yet, parents of dead children DO go on, but it takes my breath away thinking about it.

My grandparents lost a child tragically prior to having my father. A picture of their little girl hangs on my living room wall, because even after nearly 70 years, I want everyone to know that she existed. I think it would make them smile to know that her picture is in our home. This is a child I never knew, but from the time I knew of her very existance, she carved out a place in my mind, and I knew a piece of my grandparents' sorrow.

My friend buried her youngest son today. Initially, I thought that the funeral would be the worst part. Facing all those people...but those people are an outpouring of love, of people who are grieving too. Those people will go back to their lives tomorrow, and then my friend will be alone with her immediate family. With the fading echoes of her son in the house. A mom of three, but only two with her. The hard part starts tomorrow.

Often, people are afraid to call, afraid to ask how the grief-stricken are doing. We tend to ask "Let me know if there is anything I can do." Well, since we can't turn back time and can't bring her child back to life there is virtually nothing anyone can "do". So we say these things out of desire to want to help, and helplessness knowing that there is virtually nothing that will help. A meal, a hand to hold, a shoulder to cry on, and endless river of tears.

This is heartbreak beyond my understanding.

RAD Flashbacks

I recently found out that an old friend is also raising a RADish. As she is the legal guardian for her young niece, and single, she has been trying to go it alone. No one told her that she was raising a child with RAD. No one has ever identified this child has having RAD, but that does not change the fact that this child's behavior reveals her mental health problems. I recently sent her the Nancy Thomas DVDs that we had, and I know she's going to spend the next few months learning everything that she can to help her child.

The first time anyone told us that our child had RAD, I immediately got on line and started digging. Our son was just a few years younger than her niece. I wish I would have had an experienced friend at the time, and I wish I was closer to help her. Oh the help she is going to need! Remember the fatigue, the worry, the constant state of hyper vigilence...I can't imagine how stressed her life has been trying to do this without a partner. I did not have to work while I was learing about reactive attachment disorder--she does. I was fortunate that the people closest in our lives were understanding and respected our judgement. DH's family made no judgements. My family did, but they were far enough away that id didn't impact us. I ordered a stack of books from our local library, and a social worker once commented "That's pretty much a grad school course right there!"

I was eager to dig into the books and find the tools to have harmony in my home. It was an uphill battle, as our kiddos prefered the chaos. This in turn did two things: first, it pushed us into living in a high state of stress most of the time; second, it prepared both of us for our future careers. As a nurse, I'm told that I stay calm in situations that others find very stressful. These things are barely a blip on my radar due to the stress of the RADishes.

One negative side effect of living in that stressful state for so long is that when things are calm now, I'm a little uncomfortable. DH and I were talking about how we created stress by putting things off, waiting until things were urgent, and in general just creating a higher stress level than is good for us. We are both working on that. I'm working on not procrastinating, which creates more stress and anxiety for me. Strange, the things you can get used to even when they are not good for you.

Knowing what my friend is going to face these next few years makes me more grateful for the peace we have attained. Our household bills are much lower now that it's just the two of us again, far lower than I expected. I realized I no longer have to lock my keys or purse away in our bedroom closet--the one we had to put the keyless deadbolt on. It's strange to keep my purse handy in the laundry room or the coat closet again, but nice. I don't have to hide snacks anymore. When we had all the kids--and I realize that this is not just a RADish thing--I used to have to buy doubles for snacks, or else I'd have to hide things in our bedroom closet. If I didn't, it would disappear before I could get any of the treats. DS's biggest thing was cereal. Once, DH's blood sugar dropped and he at the rest of the cereal to bring it up again. The next morning, DS was very angry. He didn't care that DH had been sick with hypoglycemia and needed to sleep.

In the end, it's the hypervigilence that I remember the most. Going through my house in my head before I'd fall asleep, hoping that I'd RAD-proofed everything. Hoping that the kids wouldn't sneak out. I'll never miss having to call the local police for missing kids, for violent kids, or for crimes committed in the house. I won't miss the crazy making that kept us up at all hours. It's an exhausting way to live.

My heart hurts for my friend, and for the wounded child who is going to put them through hell. I hope and pray that this girl will heal, that she'll be able to work with a good therapist, and that she'll be able to find a way to make peace with her previous life, and herself.