For anyone who knew Londyn well, you know she was late to almost everything. Or, on a good day, at least pushing the envelope. She was a procrastinator by nature; a gene she unfortunately inherited from me. Despite our many attempts to break her of this, time management still found itself low on her list of priorities. Sean and Brendan, having personalities of the exact opposite, found this quite frustrating, and as you can imagine, this caused many a battle within our household. Over the years however the boys got smart and started setting times to leave for events 20-30 minutes earlier than necessary. As much as I hate to admit it, this worked. Most of the time.
I think it’s safe to say that the person who coined the phrase “time heals all wounds” certainly never experienced the loss of a child. In my short seven month experience since the loss of Londyn, time does quite the opposite and is ever the antagonist in this new chapter we find ourselves in. For now it’s thoughts of time travel that keep me up at night. What was she doing this time last year? To think how normal our lives were. What small insignificant matter were we probably bickering over and what I wouldn’t give to shake some sense into myself. To say how much it didn’t matter! How amazing it would be if I could go back and leave myself a warning that might help us avoid that fated day.
Eventually though, as time moves on and age inevitably takes over, I foresee this as a completely different kind of pain. Our reflections in the mirror will begin to change but her pictures will remain the same, forever frozen in time as a beautiful young adult. We will begin to wonder what she would have been like at this age? Would she have become an accomplished news or photo journalist or would she have taken a different path? Would she be married? Have kids? Or, as she so determinedly told us on many occasions, have stayed single and free of anything tying her down in order to follow her true dream to travel the world? The fact that we will never know these things is a torment and heartbreaking.
If you, like me, find yourself at this point in the post crying and grabbing tissues I apologize. I promised to provide a window into our world of grief but wanted to do so in a way that could be informative without bringing all the heavy. But ironically enough, it’s in my deepest moments of grief when inspiration strikes. It’s a connection of sorts, like I am channeling Londyn and suddenly she is compelling me to write. She was a very talented journalist and so, in a way, this has become our new way of spending time together. It’s not the same, not even close but I will take what I can get.
So to all you parents out there who are tired and frustrated and at their wits end, please take time to hug you kids one extra time tonight. Let them know you love them. Pull out an AirPod if you have to. They may act like they don’t hear you but I promise they are filing this away in their ever growing library of memories which they will revisit one day when they get older and more level headed. And know that this phase is just a season and it too shall pass. Because I would give anything…anything to hug Londyn one last time.
Beautiful post Amy