Today I was trying to frantically to see the CD that the girls and their stepmother, Kathy made for Rachel's services. They did a beautiful job. I have been avoiding it because it makes me cry, and I wanted to be alone to wail to the heavens. I tried the TV in the bedroom, but I couldn't get it to work, I tried the TV in Chris's room, ditto, another TV in John's lair, I couldn't find the remote, and the TV in the living room would only loop the intro over and over. I was finally able to get the TV in the bedroom to show the video, which is in color with sound normally, but today was in black and white, with no sound.
But, isn't that how it is? You would think with four TV's I could get one to work. No luck. But black and white with no color was enough for me, as long as I could see Rachel. I think that is how this life is. Black and white. We don't even have a clue as to what eternity holds. How could we describe sound to someone who has never heard, or color to those who can't see? How can our finite and limited minds know what is in store for those who love God? We can't. I do not understand heaven, eternity, or God. I know that my daughter has gone from this earthly life, but I cannot grasp where she is.
There are glimpses. Maybe they are all in my mind. Maybe, I am making them up, but it is so different from anything I have made up before. I feel Rachel, I see her, sometimes, when I am really lucky I hear her, but I cannot feel her. For the past few months nearly every time I have a "visitation" it is regarding music.
I see Rachel singing. The first time was when I heard of Sabrina's death. I saw Sabrina and Rachel singing "Me and Bobby McGee". They were on a park bench in a forest and they were singing LOUD and tossing their heads around, with their hair flying and stomping their feet.
I have seen her with Elvis (yes, Presley) and with my dad. Oh, it was wonderful to see my dad again.
On July 28th, I was at my cousin Louise's ranch. We, meaning me, Louise, cousin Patty, her husband, and their relatives from Italy, cousin Howard, Howard's wife and daughter's and I were all singing karaoke. It was just as expected, fun, enthusiastic and amateurish. I was standing between Patty and Louise when we started singing "Let it be", and then Rachel joined us. She was across the room, but then she came and stood between me and Patty and started singing with us. I started to cry and Patty held me closer and Rachel stayed for much of the song and then she was gone.
It is hard not to be filled with mind-numbing grief during these visitations, but Rachel is always happy and mischievous, and that gives me comfort. I feel like I am a heathen, my faith is so shaken and shallow. I want to live for my other girls, but I want to die to see Rachel again. I told Rachel that I wanted to die to see her. I felt quilty even saying it, because I think I should want to die to be with Jesus, but I want to die to be with Rachel. When I said that, I saw her motion to me, and then say "Come on in, the water's fine." This reminded me of the song "Come to the Waters" And Jesus said, "Come to the waters, stand by my side, I know you are thirsty, you won't be denied, I felt every teardrop when in darkness you cried, and I strove to remind you that for those tears I died."
There is a big part of me that wants to move on with my life. I want to move on from this grief, and get on with the rest of my life. I want to get in shape, and sing and dance. I want to get a new job, and wish I could live with no job. But, the grief still seems to numb me and keep me down on my knees. Rachel, I love you baby. It is time to run, and dance and sing with you. I know I can only see the black and white, but it won't be long before I will be with you and sing with the angels and dance in the rainbow.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Procrastination
Tuesday, July 20th, 2008
Rachel's ashes sit in a vase on my fireplace mantle. A friend gave me the vase. I don't really like it all that much and I plan to replace it with a respectable urn.
I plan to take this respectable urn and take it and put Rachel's ashes in a respectable place, like a cemetery or to the seven winds.
I'm also thinking of getting an engraved memorial, or getting a memorial plaque at Disneyland, or getting a tree, or buying a star for Rachel.
Someday, I may even complete all the paperwork and get the money for the 401K she had, and pay for all of the above. If I was smart, I would get Vince to do it, because even though it can take weeks for him to return calls regarding Jacob, he called me back within ten minutes when I found out that Rachel had an insurance policy for Jacob.
I really intend to put a baby picture and an adult picture in the locket I have for Rachel. I'm going to put together the montage of Oz pictures I have into some really creative artwork and hang it in the living room.
I'm putting together a book of photos for Jacob and I will write down all my memories of his mother for him. I'll put together a clever book, with lovely photos and graceful calligraphy and pretty borders and fun drawings.
When I return to life again, and who knows when that will be, I will do all these things.
For now, I plan on calling Vince again and again and again to beg him to please please please let me see Jacob. And when Vince, Finally, lets me spend time with my grandson, then Jacob can tell me his own memories, of his favorite photo of his mom and him on the Winnie-the-Pooh ride, and how I have long red hair like his mommy's, and how he likes to eat lots and lots and lots of Parmesan Cheese on his spaghetti just like mommy. And I can sit and look at the darling boy and see him, for who is is, certainly, but also how much he is like his mother. Seeing my daughter alive in this boy, puts all my plans and schemes into perspective. Yes, they need to be done when I return to life again, but in the meantime, I need to be around Life, and that life is in Jacob. Rachel, I won't give up. I'm calling Vince again tomorrow. The memories will keep
another day.
Rachel's ashes sit in a vase on my fireplace mantle. A friend gave me the vase. I don't really like it all that much and I plan to replace it with a respectable urn.
I plan to take this respectable urn and take it and put Rachel's ashes in a respectable place, like a cemetery or to the seven winds.
I'm also thinking of getting an engraved memorial, or getting a memorial plaque at Disneyland, or getting a tree, or buying a star for Rachel.
Someday, I may even complete all the paperwork and get the money for the 401K she had, and pay for all of the above. If I was smart, I would get Vince to do it, because even though it can take weeks for him to return calls regarding Jacob, he called me back within ten minutes when I found out that Rachel had an insurance policy for Jacob.
I really intend to put a baby picture and an adult picture in the locket I have for Rachel. I'm going to put together the montage of Oz pictures I have into some really creative artwork and hang it in the living room.
I'm putting together a book of photos for Jacob and I will write down all my memories of his mother for him. I'll put together a clever book, with lovely photos and graceful calligraphy and pretty borders and fun drawings.
When I return to life again, and who knows when that will be, I will do all these things.
For now, I plan on calling Vince again and again and again to beg him to please please please let me see Jacob. And when Vince, Finally, lets me spend time with my grandson, then Jacob can tell me his own memories, of his favorite photo of his mom and him on the Winnie-the-Pooh ride, and how I have long red hair like his mommy's, and how he likes to eat lots and lots and lots of Parmesan Cheese on his spaghetti just like mommy. And I can sit and look at the darling boy and see him, for who is is, certainly, but also how much he is like his mother. Seeing my daughter alive in this boy, puts all my plans and schemes into perspective. Yes, they need to be done when I return to life again, but in the meantime, I need to be around Life, and that life is in Jacob. Rachel, I won't give up. I'm calling Vince again tomorrow. The memories will keep
another day.
Tuesday, July 1, 2008
July 1, 2008 Headache
Yesterday, I got a headache at work that made me want to scream. It was hitting the back of my head, like when I had my concussion, and radiating over the top of my skull. It was making me nauseous, maybe a migraine, though I don't generally get migraines. And then, I got it. This is why Rachel died.
Rachel couldn't stand pain, not in herself and not in others. She would run like mad from pain, she would cry and scream in emotional pain, and take whatever she could get her hands on to block out physical pain. There was no use in telling her to "buck up" or "just live with it". That would never happen.
Rachel would talk with anybody, anybody about her emotional pain. Everybody knew whatever was ailing her at any time. Keeping a "stiff upper lip" or " nobody wants to hear your problems" didn't work for her. A life long blabbermouth, she did what she could to release the pain by talking. When she couldn't talk about it, she would get depressed and retreat to sleep, another favorite pastime.
In physical pain, Rachel had no compunctions about doubling or tripling whatever pain killer she had on hand, she couldn't wait to get rid of the pain. Rachel stole prescription drugs from the time she was a teenager from relatives and friends. Rachel was in pain on July 29, 2007. She had an abcessed tooth, which she needed a root canal for. She had dropped some shoes on her feet and they were sprained, if not broken. She had constant back pain, which at autopsy was discovered to have been caused by a 6 centimeter ovarian cyst, she had pelvic inflammatory disease, she was an undiagnosed asthmatic and a chronic smoker. All of this caused her physical pain. The emotional pain was worse.
I didn't know conclusively, why she died until 2 days ago when my cousin Louise told me that Jeff had told her around the time of Rachel's death that Becky was missing a patch of Fentanyl. My cousin Chris, said "Didn't you know that ?" and I said no. I knew Rachel had died from an accidental overdose. There was a list of drugs that put together caused her death, but I didn't know whether she was prescribed the meds, or got them from friends. Becky had good reason to have powerful painkillers. She was recovering from back surgery, the kind where they cut her open from the front and the back and put a post in her back to correct her spine. She was in surgery for over 14 hours. She was in the hospital for days. Stealing a lethal drug from her Aunt Becky was Rachel's downfall.
Knowing Rachel's proclivity for Vicoden and other painkillers, Jeff and Becky usually kept them away from her. After Rachel's death, Jeff discovered that they were missing a Fentanyl patch, a drug supposedly 80 times more potent than morphine, and this patch killed Rachel, causing a massive heart attack.
On the evening of July 29th, Rachel visited her Aunt Becky. She was in good spirits. Apparently she stole the Fentanyl Patch at that time. She went home. I called her on the phone and she said "Mommy, I am in so much pain". I said "Hang on, honey, I'm coming down next weekend to help you out" And she said "That would be nice, mommy I have to hang up. I love you"
And then she was gone.
I remembered all this when I had my horrible headache. I thought I would do anything to get rid of it. And then I thought, "I get it". I understand why Rachel stole the patch. I understand the pain. I understand the need for oblivion.
My sister, Cid had a dream about Rachel soon after she died. She dreamt that she saw Rachel and Rachel said "Tell Mommy, I'm sorry". I didn't understand the dream at the time, but I do now. Rachel wanted forgiveness for stealing.
Oh my baby, I forgive you. Rest in peace free from the pain of the world. Love, Mommy
Rachel couldn't stand pain, not in herself and not in others. She would run like mad from pain, she would cry and scream in emotional pain, and take whatever she could get her hands on to block out physical pain. There was no use in telling her to "buck up" or "just live with it". That would never happen.
Rachel would talk with anybody, anybody about her emotional pain. Everybody knew whatever was ailing her at any time. Keeping a "stiff upper lip" or " nobody wants to hear your problems" didn't work for her. A life long blabbermouth, she did what she could to release the pain by talking. When she couldn't talk about it, she would get depressed and retreat to sleep, another favorite pastime.
In physical pain, Rachel had no compunctions about doubling or tripling whatever pain killer she had on hand, she couldn't wait to get rid of the pain. Rachel stole prescription drugs from the time she was a teenager from relatives and friends. Rachel was in pain on July 29, 2007. She had an abcessed tooth, which she needed a root canal for. She had dropped some shoes on her feet and they were sprained, if not broken. She had constant back pain, which at autopsy was discovered to have been caused by a 6 centimeter ovarian cyst, she had pelvic inflammatory disease, she was an undiagnosed asthmatic and a chronic smoker. All of this caused her physical pain. The emotional pain was worse.
I didn't know conclusively, why she died until 2 days ago when my cousin Louise told me that Jeff had told her around the time of Rachel's death that Becky was missing a patch of Fentanyl. My cousin Chris, said "Didn't you know that ?" and I said no. I knew Rachel had died from an accidental overdose. There was a list of drugs that put together caused her death, but I didn't know whether she was prescribed the meds, or got them from friends. Becky had good reason to have powerful painkillers. She was recovering from back surgery, the kind where they cut her open from the front and the back and put a post in her back to correct her spine. She was in surgery for over 14 hours. She was in the hospital for days. Stealing a lethal drug from her Aunt Becky was Rachel's downfall.
Knowing Rachel's proclivity for Vicoden and other painkillers, Jeff and Becky usually kept them away from her. After Rachel's death, Jeff discovered that they were missing a Fentanyl patch, a drug supposedly 80 times more potent than morphine, and this patch killed Rachel, causing a massive heart attack.
On the evening of July 29th, Rachel visited her Aunt Becky. She was in good spirits. Apparently she stole the Fentanyl Patch at that time. She went home. I called her on the phone and she said "Mommy, I am in so much pain". I said "Hang on, honey, I'm coming down next weekend to help you out" And she said "That would be nice, mommy I have to hang up. I love you"
And then she was gone.
I remembered all this when I had my horrible headache. I thought I would do anything to get rid of it. And then I thought, "I get it". I understand why Rachel stole the patch. I understand the pain. I understand the need for oblivion.
My sister, Cid had a dream about Rachel soon after she died. She dreamt that she saw Rachel and Rachel said "Tell Mommy, I'm sorry". I didn't understand the dream at the time, but I do now. Rachel wanted forgiveness for stealing.
Oh my baby, I forgive you. Rest in peace free from the pain of the world. Love, Mommy
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