I Had a Dream

I had a dream about Tiffany last night.  It may have been triggered by a conversation that Paul and I had over dinner last night.  We were talking about what we were going to do on Saturday around the house.  Paul said that I should go shopping since it was going to rain but I wasn't in favor of the idea.  He didn't understand why not because he knew that I enjoyed shopping.  I told him that I didn't enjoy shopping at all anymore now that Tiffany was gone.  Now I only go shopping when I have to get something or buy a gift and that there was nothing, not one thing, that I enjoyed about going to the stores just to window shop or walk around.  And I remember him saying to me that Tiffany wouldn't have wanted that but I just can't help it.

Of course, my dream begins with me shopping...surprise.  I walked into a store that was somewhat familiar but I couldn't put a name to the store at this time.  I was looking for a pocketbook, a particular kind, but I can't say now what particular features I wanted.  I walked around the store and saw a handbag up on a stand.  I took it down, looked at it and hung it back up as it wasn't exactly what I wanted.  I didn't hang it up quite right so I fiddled around with it until it was back the way it had been.  I wandered around again, looking at all kinds of bags, drawn by the glittery ones but they had bows and ribbons as if they were for young girls.  I was getting frustrated so I decided to pick up a bag of dog food in the store.  I'm not sure why they sold dog food there but it was in a different section.

I remembered that they had an upper level to the store where they had more expensive handbags and I was a little hesitant but figured I would go after all.  I asked the clerk to hold the dog food for me and moseyed on upstairs.  I didn't find what I was looking for but there was a catalog on one of the tables that I picked up.  I walked back downstairs and out the door.  As I went up the street, I suddenly saw a billboard that advertised the store I had just left.  On the billboard, larger than life was Tiffany, modeling their clothes.  I thought to myself, "Oh my god, that's where she's been all this time!".  She looked so beautiful...just like herself only her hair was cut short to just above her shoulders.  I was surprised by that because she hated her hair that short.  I looked down at the catalog in my hand and started to flip through it.  And there she was...modeling different clothes in different poses.  In one of them, she was reclining on a bench with her feet up on a table and her arms on a ledge behind her...so relaxed.  She was wearing a sweater and skirt with tights and cute shoes.  I was somewhat shocked because I never knew she had any interest in modeling and I thought how perfect it was for her.  She looked so sure of herself and comfortable in her own skin.

I rushed back to the store with the intent to find out where she was.  I went up to the clerk who was holding the dog food and asked her about the model in the catalog.  I was frantic and emotional.  When I looked up, there was Tiffany standing there, beautiful as ever.  I started to cry and asked her why she had disappeared for so long.  I was quite angry with her for doing that.  My sense was that she had cut off contact with me much as she did when I discovered she had an eating disorder.  I was so distraught, crying and walking aimlessly around the store, people looking at me wondering what was going on.  Then Tiffany handed me a long roll of something that she had written on.  The first thing I read was that she was seeing someone named Peter.  I was sobbing so hard that I couldn't quite make out his last name but thought it might be the son of someone I went to school with.  She looked at me sheepishly and said that I would probably be upset that she was seeing the son of a sheriff.  I looked back at the writing and saw that she had written that she was seeing the son of Sheriff Mark Alden, who was a boy named Peter (don't ask me who that is, I have no clue).  I told her that was no problem and that I wasn't upset.  I read more of this roll of writing but I can't remember the details now.  There was something she had written where she had crossed out some negative word but I think the gist of it was that she had found happiness.  There were also comments about how she had been waiting for me to make contact and why hadn't I contacted her.  I told her it was because she had cut off all ties to me but I realized then that she had been waiting for me to reach out and find her.

As I stood there in shock, relief and wonder, a man came up to me and asked me if I had found my daughter.  I replied with great happiness, "Yes, I found her!".  Then I woke up...

Third Year of a Life Lost

I wonder when the crying stops?  When does the pain lessen?  When does the longing for your youngest child, your only daughter, one of your two very best friends go away?  The answer is never.  Sometimes it barely subsides.

It seems like I have written reams about Tiffany, both about good times and about her struggles with bulimia and other issues.  But the truth is that it doesn't matter one iota.  What matters is that she is my daughter, flesh of my flesh, born of my body.  She, along with Troy, filled my heart and soul with love and joy and happiness and hope and peace and everything that is good on this earth.  Now half of that heart and soul is missing, leaving a huge hole there that nothing yet has been able to fill.

For the weeks leading up to Tiffany's 3rd anniversary, I experienced some of the most profound depression, other than in the months after Tiffany died, that I have ever dealt with.  I longed and prayed for death to take me because I could not bear the agony of knowing that I would never see Tiffany again.  There was no joy or light in my world; nothing but darkness and bitter grief.  Life had no purpose without my child in it and I no longer felt like a mother.  Troy was physically far away from me and seemingly self-sufficient.  As a mother, I was no longer needed to perform the role that had been my life for more than 20 years.  I was lost in a blackness of being that was all-encompassing and I saw no way out other than to wait for death to have its way.

Yet every day I woke up to face another day -- to put one step in front of the other.  The anniversary arrived and I pushed myself to honor that day.  I brought a bottle of Relax Reisling to toast her memory and we drank in her honor.  Under the umbrella in the pouring rain, I read a poem called "The Cord" to represent the bond between Tiffany and me.  And of course, there were the balloons and the one that got away, somehow escaping from the tie of the ribbon.  And I made it through that day.

Now that day is passed and I am numb again.  Going through the motions of life and trying to keep forging ahead.  Once again, I have had to make a decision to live life as best I can.  So I'm going to a nutritionist to try to lose the weight I gained in 2012, a fact which fills me with despair.  I have made a conscious effort to increase my exercise by walking on the treadmill and around the neighborhood.  And I try to keep telling myself that I cannot do to my loved ones what Tiffany did in the throws of unbearable pain.  I cannot do that to the son whose mother I still am or deprive my grandchildren of their grandma or Paul of the woman he asked to marry him.

Although I can laugh and be happy at times, there will always be that deep underlying sadness to everything I do.  I don't expect that to ever go away, no matter how much time passes.  I will never be the whole person that I was.  A part of me will always be missing.  Time will change the essence of my grief, ebbing and flowing in my being but ever there to overwhelm me unexpectedly.  It's a bit frightening to think that this will be what my life will be like for the rest of my days but I must endure.

I would be remiss not to mention the impact of the death of Robin Williams on me.  Like the untimely death of Cory Monteith of Glee fame, I am thrown back in all its pain to the night I found Tiffany stiff and motionless in her bed.  Oh how those thoughts haunt me down to my soul!  At that moment and for some time after, I wondered what drove my lovely daughter to take her life but today I wonder no longer.  I think I can understand some small measure of what she must have been feeling.  I comprehend how she could have sunk into a despair that was like no other and from which she could not overcome.  How one more setback or one more unbearable thing could have pushed her over the edge.  And my heart breaks for her and for Robin Williams and everyone touched by suicide -- the survivors, the bereaved and the lost.

So let us remember our loved ones in all their living glory, perfect and flawed.  Pay homage to their memory, be forever grateful for the time we had with them and hope to meet them again wherever death leads us.

Butterflies

Where are all the butterflies?  The first year, they were everywhere.  The second year, I only saw one lone butterfly in April, flying through the Serenity Garden.  This year, the third year, nary a butterfly to be found...

All summer everyone has talked about the butterflies they have seen...the ones that have followed them, the ones that have landed on them, the ones that have appeared the minute they have stepped outside. Sometimes there are more than one and many times they are Monarch butterflies. It's as if they were guardian angels in the guise of butterflies...as if Tiffany were saying:

"I'll be your keeper for life as your guardian
I'll be your warrior of care, your first warden
I'll be your angel on call, I'll be on demand
The greatest honor of all, as your guardian"
-- Alanis Morisette

Sept 16, 2012

Charlotte, NC - June 24, 2012

June 25, 2012

My beloved daughter, Tiffany, sweetly sleeping…

It has been one year since the world as I knew it came to a shattering end.  I didn’t know how I was going to go on and all I could think about was “if only” and all the things I should have, would have, could have done to prevent what happened.  For months, I lived in the shadow world of extreme pain and suffering, hating every minute of being “weak” and feeling as if the grief was going to swallow me whole.

In the meantime, you have been working overtime in Heaven, creating mischief and wreaking havoc with your brother, Jordan, and another little angel called Gabriel.

“Kiss me good-bye, I’m defying gravity” (Elphaba from Wicked)

But, oh, what wondrous things have occurred in the time you’ve been gone.  Who knew that out of great hardship and sadness, amazing things could happen?

For how I can explain the gift of friendship I have known from so many people?  How can I explain the number of people who have watched over me and worried about me and cared about me even when I didn’t want to see the love that surrounded me?  I have been unbelievably fortunate during the most difficult past months and have found new relationships in so many different ways.  My relationship with Troy, Kelly and Hunter has grown ever closer, despite the distance between us.  The hole that was ripped in my heart with your passing has slowly grown smaller, although it will never go away, through these new relationships.  I feel as if I’ve gained a whole other family to love and care about, now that you are no longer here.  For that, I thank you for watching over me and loving me, my sweet one.

I am so glad to have been your Mom for the time you were here and I feel your presence everywhere.  Memories of you are sparked all around me.  How can I ever forget the “milk” story?  That was the time back in 1990 when we arrived back home from the grocery store and you and Troy were helping me bring the groceries in.  All of a sudden, there was milk spilt everywhere and Troy insisting you had done it.  You were so indignant and so hurt when I punished you by not allowing you to wear your new shoes (yes, even then you loved shoes).  Then years later, I found out that it really wasn’t you but Troy who dropped the milk.  Oh my, how awful I felt then but what joy we got out of telling that story.

And what about the story of the Mother’s Day Card?  You were never one to enjoy giving cards for different occasions.  You thought that cards were a waste of money since they eventually ended up in the garbage.  So you resisted giving cards to people, even me.  One day, not too many Mother’s Days ago, we were strolling through a card store, looking for cards when you asked me to read a card that you had picked up.  It was for “Mom” and it was a beautiful and meaningful card for a mother.  I told you how much I liked the card, to which you replied, “I hope you enjoyed it cause it’s your mother’s day card” and proceeded to put the card back into the rack.  Only you could have thought of something so unique.

Yes, you were unique…a one-of-a-kind person, an angel sent by God to grace our lives for a short period of time.  I wish you could have stayed longer and realized all the plans that you had.  One of the plans you had was to build a separate living area for me when you got married.  Not because you wanted to have me close to you so badly, but because you wanted me to take care of your children while you were working.  It wasn’t quite to my liking but I would give my right arm now just for the privilege of seeing you have children and I would embrace the chance to watch over my grandchildren.

There are so many other stories and memories I remember but I’ll save those for another day.  I have the rest of my life to remember you in all your sheer beauty… heart, soul and body.

Thank you for all the miracles of life resulting from what I can only assume is your intervention.  Either that, or you have charmed God, the angels, saints, etc. to give you the help you need.  Whatever the case may be, from the birds and butterflies to the practical things like education loans, I see the hand of Heaven everywhere.

Although I have moved on to a new life without you, clearly divided by the before and after, I have tried to overcome my pain and to be as happy as I know how because I know it is what you would have wanted.  You are there with me every step of the way, in my heart and in my mind, never, ever to be forgotten.

One of the last things that I ever said to you, in a text unfortunately which you never saw, was that I love you more than life itself.  I wonder if you had gotten that text whether the outcome would have been different.  But that is not for me to say so I can only reiterate that I will love you until the end of time, until the day I die.

So I’ll leave you here today with the words of a song that always seems to play on the radio when I’m in the car.  It’s from “If I Die Young” by the Band Perry.

“If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Lord make me a rainbow, I'll shine down on my mother

She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh well,

Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no,

Ain't even grey, but she buries her baby”

Always, forever and ever…

Love,

Mom

The Coach Key Chain & a Broken Heart

I watched Phantom of the Opera last night and remembered when we saw it on Broadway with your godmother in NYC.  And the other day, I found your wax hand from Madame Tussaud's, probably from the same trip.  Sometimes I don't think my heart will ever be whole again.  Like the Coach key chain you got me after my first trip to India.  Remember how the crystal fell out of the heart and I put a substitute in?  Well, that one fell out, too.  I have been to every Coach store trying to find one I could take the heart off of but no luck.  I finally found one on ebay that I'm bidding on but, of course, it won't be the same.  My little key chain and I will still have a broken heart.  I love you and miss you so much.

Remembering Tiffany Gallo (Facebook)
August 9, 2011
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wrote this just a month and half or so after you were gone.  The story of the key chain has a somewhat happy ending.  I had exhausted every effort to find the same key chain...it meant so much to me.  Of course, mostly because you had given it to me but also because also because of the reason you gave it to me...for Breast Cancer in memory of your grandmother.  I even went so far as to write to Coach but it was a lost cause.  I ended up buying one from eBay just to get that heart.

However, shortly after I bought the key chain from eBay, a wonderful thing happened.  Nancy and Nicole were in Atlantic City and they found a key chain -- not the same one -- but one that had that pink heart.  That was really the most important part.  Nicole called me and was so excited that at first I didn't know what she was talking about.  When she told me what they had found, I immediately asked  if they could buy it for me.  And they did...because they knew how broken my heart was, not just about the key chain, but about losing you.

 

Upon their return, they came to my house to give me the key chain and Nicole insisted that it was a gift from her.  I was so very touched.  She also gave me a card which brought tears to my eyes, it was so beautiful.  She told me that even though she could never replace you, she was there for me whenever I needed.

  

I haven't yet replaced the heart on the key chain and I don't carry it with me anymore.  I have it tucked away in a safe place...for now.  In the time being, I have little mementos of you that I carry with me.  There's only one key on the chain...the car key.  Everything else is something that reminds me of you.  I have a tag that I gave you for your birthday -- I think it was your 18th -- with your name and Happy Birthday on it.  A Coach key chain that your Jeep key was on with a moon and stars silly band still remaining on it.  There were 3 other silly bands but they have since broken off and gotten lost.  The Breast Cancer heart from Coach that you carried, as well, with a bobby pin clipped onto it.  And lastly the key chain from the funeral home with "In memory of Tiffany Marie" engraved on it.

 

My heart is still broken and will forever be so...

Who Tiffany Was: Part 4 - Daughter

When I started this blog, I thought it was going to be easy to write down my thoughts about Tiffany, her life and the difficult journey to try to recover from this grievous loss.  However, I am finding that the reality is really something quite different.  It's hard and I'm not sure if it's doing any good.  Am I helping myself?  Is this of benefit to anyone reading it?  It feels like I'm writing in a vacuum.  I'm not sure what I expected but I guess I thought I would see some interaction from people reading it although that's certainly not the purpose.  Ah well, I'll try to continue as best I can...

It is now June, 2014.  It is approaching the three-year mark since Tiffany took her life.  Not one day goes by that I don't think of her or cry because she's not here anymore.  Every thought, every picture, every memory leaves me breathless.  I think I've run out of words to describe what it means to lose a child.  I guess there are not enough words in the English language to adequately capture all that it means.

As I look at what I read at her funeral, I see that I have repeated many stories over the past three years.  I guess some of those stories were highlights of the times we spent together but just a fraction of all that comprises my memories of Tiffany.

Tiffany was a rainbow baby, born after the death of her brother, Jordan Alexander.  The pregnancy with her was not any easier than that of Jordan who was lost when my water broke.  It seems that my body was not made for child-bearing as I almost lost her to placenta abruptio.  But she made it through and survived.  For that I am forever grateful because if Jordan had survived, I may not have had Tiffany -- the girl I longed for.  After she was born, she stayed in the hospital for 9 days before I could take her home and for several weeks, the only clothes that would fit her were doll clothes, specifically Cabbage Doll clothes.

At first, she was a quiet baby until she reached the point in time when she had been due to be born.  I remember it was Mother's Day, 1987, (her due date was the same as Jordan's birth date, April 30) and it was like she suddenly woke up and really made herself known.  I guess I had gotten too complacent and thought it was going to be a piece of cake.  That's not to say she was difficult or suffered from colic or anything like that.  It was just that she came into her own. 

Life was interesting with two children.  I returned to work and the children went to day care.  I had spent the time at home making Tiffany's christening dress and we had her baptized.  Summer was approaching and we started to go to camp on the weekends.  We had fun on the holidays like Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas.  All the things that normal families do, I suppose.

When Tiffany was two and Troy was five, I moved to North Haven, CT to take a management position.  Troy started Kindergarten and the children went to a babysitter, rather than day care.  That was a new experience for them and they made friends with the babysitter's children.  We would often come back to New York as their father had remained here, although he traveled frequently.  But I don't think any of us really warmed to CT so after about a year and a half, I took a leave of absence and returned to Schenectady.  It was shortly after our return that Tiffany decided to cut her hair for the second time but only this time, she really chopped some pieces off short.  I ended up having to have her hair cut in a pixie cut but oh, she looked so cute!  She, however, young as she was, hated her hair that way and never, ever had it that short again.

When she turned five, I enrolled her in ballet, tap and jazz.  Her first teacher, Theresa, was wonderful and Tiffany loved her.  In fact, as much as she could, she followed Theresa wherever she taught so Tiffany ended up taking dance from a few different studios -- Ferrara's, Merritt's, Guilderland Ballet and Meyers Dance Studio.  She lost touch with Theresa for a while there in between but went back to Ferrara's when Theresa ended up there.  And that's where Tiffany finished up her dance "career", all the way through her first year of college.  Her grandmother and I went to every single dance recital faithfully every year.  I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

It's funny because she didn't mind me going to her dance recitals but when it came to cheerleading, that was a different story.  I didn't get to see her cheer as much as I would have liked to since she would really balk at me coming to watch her at games.  Probably the only time I really got to see her cheer was early in Pop Warner, a few of her competitions and when she cheered her sophomore year of high school on the Varsity team and Troy was a senior on the football team.  Tiffany really loved cheerleading and that same year joined an All Star team.  But that, combined with school cheerleading, was a bit much, or so she told me, and she quit the school team.  But she was determined to make a comeback and spent the summer doing gymnastics and honing up on her dance skills, which were already advanced.  Unfortunately, her coach at the time was not very forgiving and despite her skills, placed her on the Junior Varsity squad for her junior year, down from Varsity.  That's kind of the way some school sports programs work, despite trying to talk to the school athletic director and writing the coach a letter (which she never acknowledged).  Tiffany was devastated and ending up quitting...for good.  She never did cheer again after that and I don't think she was ever the same, either.

When Tiffany was in elementary school, it seemed to be hard for her.  In 3rd Grade, there was some talk of keeping her back since she was very behind in reading.  That didn't happen but she was put into remedial reading.  I don't think that ever really helped and then around this time, Tiffany started to develop physically.  It was a very difficult time for her; I tried to involve the teacher so that she would understand what Tiffany was going through.  But I think the other children were very mean.  By the time, Tiffany reached the end of 5th Grade, I knew I had to do something about her reading.  So I enrolled her in The Learning Center.  This was what she needed to turn things around and while she was there, she also got the opportunity to really boost her math skills, which were already advanced.  She entered 6th Grade in good position academically but this is around the time that her eating disorder started.  She stopped developing and growing around this time...due to her eating disorder, I'm sure.  The nutrition doctor thought that she would grow to about 5' 8" which was then revised to 5' 4".  But what really happened is that she never even reached 5' 1".  She was just shy of that mark.

I think it was inevitable.  Food was always an issue with Tiffany, from very early on.  It was like she decided one day that she didn't like anything.  There were so many things that she didn't like and trying to get her to eat healthy food was nearly impossible.  She liked only a few things and sweets was one of them.  The number of times that I found Fruit Roll-up wrappers stuffed in the couch are too numerous to count.  This was such a concern but there is nothing you can do to make someone eat, short of forcing it down their throat which I wasn't prepared to do.  For years, I feared the worst might happen...it was always lying there under the surface, always thinking that she was at risk for this disease.  When she wrote a paper on anorexia, we talked about her paper and eating disorders but she lied and put my fears to rest.  But the demon, bulimia, was there lurking and working, just waiting for me to find out a few years later.

But despite her issues, Tiffany forged ahead and she met the challenge of high school head-on.  She did phenomenally well, especially in Math and Science.  In fact, Chemistry was probably her best subject and I tried to encourage her to think about becoming a pharmacist but that just sounded too boring to her (as if accounting was any more exciting).  From a discouraging start in elementary school to a GPA of nearly 3.7 in high school and the same in college with a small 4-year scholarship in a state school (a bit unheard of), she then went on to graduate Magna Cum Laude and obtained her Master's in Tax, tuition-free (as part of the scholarship).

Both my children are/were my pride and joy.  I am so proud of them and what they both accomplished in life.  Troy is the most amazing father and a wonderful son and husband.  But oh, Tiffany could have accomplished much, much more, if only she had somehow found a way to work things through.  But boys and girls are different and Tiffany was like my best friend.  We had a lot in common and she took after me a lot.  Not that Troy doesn't...cause he does!  However, each child has their special bond with their mother.  She was my baby (as Troy will always be my "little man"...sorry, Troy!).  She relied on me in a way that Troy did not and I relied on both of them in certain ways as well.  Tiffany and I shared a love of reading, of shopping, of dance and many other things.  Her leaving has left a huge void in my life that I'm trying to fill but it is proving to be the greatest challenge of my existence.

Today, I am remembering those 10 days that I spent with Tiffany at her apartment in Stamford, CT from June 2 to June 12, 2011.  They were so different from those days that I spent with her after she got out of the hospital in October 2010.  This time, she wanted me there and during those irreplaceable 10 days, I felt closer to her than I ever did before.  I am forever sorry that I didn't stay when I returned from North Carolina as I wanted to but I am forever grateful for those precious moments out of time...

My darling, my beloved Tiffany,

My heart is breaking and I don’t know how I am going to pick up the pieces.  I feel this is a bad dream from which I only have to awake.

You and your brother are the light of my life but you occupied a special place in all of our hearts.  Like most parents, I can remember the day you were born as if it were yesterday and the indescribable love that I felt for you from the moment I held you in my arms.  Your determination showed even then and you couldn’t even wait the full term to be born.  You were so small that we had to dress you in Cabbage Patch doll clothes.  But you proved you were strong and soon you were doing all the things a normal baby does.

Sometimes I feel that we were never really separated when you were born.  There was always some invisible string that held us together.  Now the string is broken, irreparable, some part always to be missing.

It was an utter joy to watch you grow up.  I remember the day I bought the 50^th anniversary edition of the “Wizard of Oz” and from that moment on, you kept watching it over and over and over until you finally wore the VHS tape out and I had to buy you a new one.  I remember the first day you went to dance class and how your Grandmother and I went to every single dance recital all the way through to your Graduation dance in your sequined gown on the stage of Proctor’s to watch how beautifully you danced.  I’ll never forget how desperately you wanted to join the Pop Warner Cheerleaders when you were 8, which I suspect was because your brother was in Pop Warner, too.  And I was so proud when you went on to cheerlead in high school on the Junior Varsity and Varsity squads.

And how can I forget all the trips we took: Hawaii, Disneyland, Dollywood, Disney World and the Great Escape (every year); how much you loved to go to camp in Sacandaga and the overnight Girl Scout camps, even though I thought for sure you would be calling me to come get you; how you were determined to graduate early from high school and start college early and how I drove every weekend to Marist College to pick you up and bring you back because it was all just a little too much for you.

And I would gladly do it all again 10 times over if it meant you would still be here.  You were such a joy (even if your “evil” twin, as you called her, did make an appearance occasionally).  Your beauty, your soul, your mind, your heart just shone through – you were one-of-a-kind, a special angel.  I don’t think you ever realized just how special you were, how many lives you touched, how good you were, how much you helped, not only me, but so many other people.  Even animals, especially cats, like that special Duke you found on your wheel well and I thought you would never leave behind.

Now, we all have to go on but the hurt is nearly unbearable.  I can’t express how much I will miss you.  I am going to miss our shopping trips together, when you always wanted to make my fashion decisions for me; going to see “Wicked” on this past Mother’s Day in NYC; or sitting at home, you watching “Ratatouille” until I thought I would go crazy.  I’ll miss you climbing into bed as a kid because you didn’t like your own and as you grew older, the need to nestle with me never left you.  I’ll miss our trips to the nail salon to have our manicures and pedicures, when you always would be done before me.  I’m going to regret not getting calls from you nearly every day, almost always when I was on a conference call and you asking me what I thought about this or that.  I can remember coming home from Charlotte just last week, you rushing out to greet me, Riley in hand, your hair twisted up with a mischievous smile and your face glowing.  Now I’ll never forget the sound of your voice, the sight of your beautiful face and the feel of your arms around me.  But most of all it’s going to be hard to know that you will never find the happiness you were so desperately seeking or the family of your own that you so often longed for.  To know that I will never see you fulfill your unbelievable potential or walk down the aisle to meet the man of your dreams for that fairy-tale wedding at a remote location or even have children, it is unimaginable. It breaks my heart now to know that you and I will never be reunited together again in one place with your brother and his family.  But I know that somewhere in this world, some physical part of you still lives on and I will have to take some small comfort in that.

It seems so odd to me that life is still going on when, for me, it’s as if life has stopped.  My life as I know it came to a complete end on Saturday when I found you.  When I touched your arm and shoulder and it was cold and stiff.  That’s when I knew you were gone.  And the world should have stopped at that moment because you had left it.

There is so much I want to say to you, Tiffany, but there’s just not enough time to say it all today, not even the “milk” story.  So I just want to close here with some words from the song “Over the Rainbow” from your favorite movie.

Someday I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far
Behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops
Away above the chimney tops
That's where you'll find me.

I will love you always, forever and ever.

Mom

The Mysterious Plants...a Sign?

Tiffany, I want you to be alive so much that it is a crippling physical pain, a shot to the heart.  And even after 3 years, I still cannot make peace with myself about it.

The other day I lay on your grave and begged God to take me.  I felt as if life was nothing but a travesty, filled with hopelessness and helplessness.  I wanted so much to be with you and Jordan and my mother...I am not afraid to die.  I just don't want to actively seek it...I would prefer that it happen passively.  I wonder what purpose I serve here on this earth; what is my reason for existing in this half-life.

So I lay there in the darkest despair, waiting for some sign that my wish would be granted.  I waited for an indication that my deepest desire had been heard...something.  But there was only silence to be found.  Finally, I understood that no prayers would be answered this day so I stood up and started walking, trying to find some peace.  I walked the perimeter of the cemetery before arriving back at the family headstone.

With sadness weighing heavily on my shoulders, no peace or solace to be had, I drove back home.  The next day, I decided to go to the nearby nursery to buy some plants for your lovely Serenity Garden.  I made my purchases and drove back home.  I emptied the car and carried my "fairy" plants (small plants for a terrarium) onto the porch.  I showed them off to Paul, at the same time lamenting that I had forgotten to buy some coleus plants to plant near the flowering dogwood.  I set the cardboard box of plants on the porch and carried the begonias I had bought over to the evergreen tree.  I came back and sat down when I noticed something odd.  There were two coleus plants in the cardboard box!

Now this was impossible.  I had carried the cardboard box of plants out of the store myself and there were no coleus plants in that box.  I had set the box down but for a minute on the cart with my other purchases to load up the car but I had never picked out or chosen or set any of these plants into the box or car.  In fact, I hadn't given them any thought until I got home.  Yet there they sat in the box.  Where did these plants come from? Because I surely hadn't selected them.

Well, Paul swears that they are a sign from my lost loved ones.  A sign that I am meant to stay in this world for some purpose as yet unknown.  It certainly is strange that these two  plants that I hadn't picked out should appear just moments after I remembered them.

There's a very special garden

Where the trees of memory grow

Nurtured by the kindness

And concern that good friends show.

The roots are cherished memories

Of good times in the past

The branches tender promises

That souls endure and last.

It's a place of peace and beauty

Where bright new hopes can start

It's memory's lovely garden

That soothes the hurting heart.

Grief and Loneliness are My Constant Companions

At the dawn of each new year, I am optimistic that this year will be better than the last.  For how can this year be worse than the last.  Yet each year seems to be no better than the one before.  Of course, no year can be worse than 2011 but each successive year has not been much better.  I approached 2014 with high hopes that it would be finally be a good year after past 3 years which had been quite awful.  But it was really not to be.

I think it started with the snowstorm on my birthday.  That in itself was not all that bad but it seemed to be a indicator of what was to come.  That all started the following Monday with a routine mammogram.  What usually took 15 minutes turned into a 2-hour ordeal.  I had 2 mammograms followed by an ultrasound.  As I sat there on the table having the ultrasound, all I could think about was Tiffany.  I'm not sure why I thought of her but tears silently filled my eyes while grief filled my heart.  I really have no explanation as to why I should have been overwhelmed with thoughts of her at that moment since for all I knew, it was just a routine ultrasound.

Later that day, as I stood in the bank making a deposit, the call came from my doctor's office.  They had found something and I needed to make an appointment with a surgeon.  I was taken completely by surprise as I was expecting to hear that everything was fine.  At first I was upset but then the thoughts started to sneak into my mind that it wasn't all that bad for here might be my opportunity to be with Tiffany if things didn't work out.  My fear started to subside and it all seemed inevitable.  Strange how one's mind works...

What followed has been very stressful and confusing.  I went to see the surgeon who ordered a bi-lateral core needle biopsy.  I ended up only having to have one as the cyst on the left only needed to be aspirated and was benign.  The one on the right showed signs of abnormality so more tests followed.  First an MRI, then a lumpectomy.  All this took place from Feb 10 through Mar 18.  It was a whirlwind and a rollercoaster and I would have much preferred not to have been on for the ride.  By the end of March, there were still signs of abnormality so it was on to genetic testing and risk assessment.  Finally, things settled down somewhat.  I saw the oncologist and was put on exemestane which I'll have to take for the next 5 years or so but the genetic testing all came out negative.  That's very good news but this has all been a drain financially as my medical plan does not have good coverage and I'm left with substantial bills.

In addition to the toll financially, this has definitely taken a toll on me mentally.  I feel very isolated and don't feel that I am handling all this very well on top of losing Tiffany.  I know that people can't read my mind but the sense of isolation from family and friends is quite intense.  This makes for a very lonely existence and I'm quite tired of being "strong".  I'm wondering where family and friends are when you need them.  Makes a good case for being alone...or becoming a hermit.

Who Tiffany Was: Part 3 - Sister

For some reason this part of the story is difficult to tell.  Of course, it started in March of 1987 with the birth of Tiffany and Troy stepped into the shoes of an older brother.  He was a loving brother right from the start.  That was a bit surprising since he was an only child for over 3 years and very close to me.  But perhaps it was because she was a girl.  I really suspect it was because Troy just had a natural affinity for children, even at that young an age.

 But for whatever reason, he never showed any jealousy towards Tiffany and she seamlessly became an integral part of the tight-knit threesome that we made up.  There was really nothing that we didn't do together in those early years.  I would take the children shopping, we would go to camp and sit by the lake, we would play games and watch TV...just some of the many activities that we did as a family.

When I got a job in CT, of course, Troy and Tiffany came, too.  It was where I bought them their first Nintendo game system and they spent hours together playing Mario and Zelda.  It was also at this time, in 1989, that I bought the 50th Anniversary edition of the "Wizard of Oz" and an obsession was born.  I often wonder if Troy got as tired of watching that movie as I did.  Although maybe not, since he was a kid, and what kid didn't like the "Wizard of Oz"?

We had many adventures there.  We lived in a steel house, one of the few of its kind, in North Haven, CT.  It was here that the infamous "milk" incident occurred, the truth of which didn't come out for many years after but which gave us many laughs afterwards.  We traveled back to New York quite frequently during those days, where Troy and Tiffany had opportunities to play with friends, but the best was, we were always together.

After a while, we moved back to New York and the children re-acclimated themselves as if they never left.  That first summer we were back, I was on a leave of absence from work so I watched 2 of their dear friends while their mother worked and those kids were the best buddies ever.  After that, I was fortunate to get them into a Magnet school and when it was time for Tiffany to enter Kindergarten, she was able to go to the same school as Troy where he could keep a brotherly eye on her.  And when we moved to a new house and they entered a new school, he still continued to look out for her.

Of course, I can remember times, very vividly, as they got a little older, when they would bicker and tease each other endlessly and I thought I was going to go crazy.  But that didn't stop Tiffany from joining Pop Warner as a cheerleader and following in Troy's Pop Warner footsteps once she knew that he was going to play football.  They even did soccer as well, although Tiffany's heart wasn't in that sport and she quit after a while.  But despite the bickering and fighting, they looked out for one another.  No girl was ever good enough for Troy and boys needed to watch out for big brother!

As they grew, we took a lot of trips together.  We went to Disneyland in California and stopped at Malibu Beach, took a trip to Tennessee and Dollywood, to name just a couple.  It was in Dollywood where Tiffany had one of her worst tantrums ever and I was at a loss as to what to do with her.  Every child has these incidents but I'm sure Troy wanted to just disassociate himself entirely from his sister.  But somehow he was always patient with her.

I think Tiffany thought that Troy was always going to stay in the area, always be a part of our life here in the Northeast.  When he decided to go to UNC Charlotte, I believe that Tiffany felt in her heart that he was not ever coming back.  Especially when he met someone quite soon after he started his first semester there.  Of course, it didn't help that it was around this time that she broke up with her high school boyfriend, graduated early from high school and went to Marist College and hated it.  For despite their early squabbles, they were really quite close and she missed him terribly.  They had been together for so long, it's not surprising.  In fact, Troy himself mentioned that he didn't realize how much they were together when they were growing up until she was gone.  When she graduated from college, she made sure that Troy was there to share her special day...nothing less than his presence would do.

Even after the debacle when Troy told me about her eating disorder, I know she longed for the closeness that the three of us had had for all those early, growing-up years.  She often mourned the fact that Troy lived so far away and that he had what she called another "family" with Kelly.  Even though I told her that we would always be Troy's family, no matter what, it seemed to hurt her tremendously that we weren't together.  Nothing I could say would comfort her.  And when Troy got married, it seemed almost more than she could bear.  For in her eyes, he now really had a new family.

Troy was a wonderful brother to Tiffany and a stand-in father figure.  He listened to her problems at all hours of the day and night, offered her advice, practiced tough love and the opposite as well...all in an effort to support her and help her and love her.  Did he always succeed in his efforts?  Well, who could?  He did the best he knew how.  He worried about her, agonized over decisions he made and did what he thought was right.  He was the best brother Tiffany could ever have had...that any sister could possibly have had.

I will never forget when I had to tell Troy, that Saturday night in June, that Tiffany was gone.  The sheer and utter anguish and torment in his response tore my heart even further apart than it already was.  Not only was my daughter gone from this earth, but my son, her loving brother, was brought to his knees in desolation.  As his sobs filled my ears from 800 miles away, I could not imagine how the human spirit could endure what we had to face ahead.  But Troy was my rock, steadfast and true, as he had been for his sister.  The light of his love, and that of Kelly and Hunter, shines bright over me, as does Tiffany's from the heavens above.

Troy's Eulogy to his sister, with love...

Dear Tiff,

Where do I begin?  There are no words to describe the pain I feel now and forever.  My only sister has left me, left me longing for answers; answers to what a great life you would have led, answers that will never come.  I keep imagining all of the good times we would have had.  I picture you perfect and healthy, and telling Kelly and I how we should raise Hunter.  I think of the moment when he would say your name for the first time.  I see you at your wedding; you have finally found the man you were always longing for.  I dream of dancing with you there, you crying on my shoulder with tears of joy.  I imagine you having a baby, being hesitant at first but when you look at that little girl (it was always a little girl) you got so protective of her and she changed you.  Don’t you see?  You were capable of so much more.

Growing up together are the memories that I cherish most of all; all of the holidays, birthdays, and special occasions.  Christmas morning when you were always waking me up to go open presents; birthdays where you would always unwrap my gifts before I could; and even at your graduation when you outdid me again, I was still so proud.  And don’t forget about “The Wizard of Oz”; I can remember how much you loved it growing up.  You watched the video so much that the reels literally fell off.  If you only knew how much we all loved and watched you, Tiff. Well, today our reels have fallen off.

I still can’t believe it when I walked into your apartment on this past Monday morning.  I saw the picture of you and me dancing at my wedding.  There were tears falling from your face as they fall from mine now; you were so sad that day, so sad that I was moving on to another chapter in my life.  During our dance you told me how much you had missed me since I was gone.  I quickly told you that I missed you too but that you couldn’t cry because you would mess up your beautiful makeup.  You laughed, and for this brief, amazing moment captured in time, I can always see you as you truly were, my beautiful loving sister.

As I searched your apartment for every piece of you, I found the Patron tequila bottle Kelly and I gave you for your 21^st birthday.  I collapsed to the floor clutching the bottle as I wanted to clutch you; I cried in agony hoping it wasn’t true.  But, I didn’t forget what you said to me when you got it in the mail, you said, “Do you really think I can drink that whole thing?” 

I keep searching for ways to find peace but can’t.  Although, I will tell you that I find some comfort in knowing you were still coming to Charlotte despite what your stupid brother said.  You were coming to Charlotte to start anew, to start a life you always wanted, to take the first step in reuniting us all again in a place of happiness.

Tiff, you, I know now, are an angel.  You were troubled in this life despite the mind and body you were given but all the while you were disguised as an angel just wanting to go back home.  I believe the people that have the hardest time in this life are the ones that have seen heaven and compared it without even knowing it.  It saddens me to know that you are home now looking down on us, telling us to move on from this but I’m sorry, I can’t ever get past losing you.

Over the last days, I have seen the outpouring of love everyone has for you.  You touched so many lives during the precious moments you gave us.  You helped so many, so many cope with what you couldn’t.  I wish you could see now what you didn’t see then, that those around you loved you, needed you, and will forever remember you. 

Tiff, I need to tell you one last thing before I go; you once asked me if I was ashamed of you.  Well, lil sis, I’m not ashamed, I’m proud to call you my sister, I’m happy to say I love you, I’m devastated to say I miss you, and we all are screaming that this world will never be the same without you.

I love you, I miss you,

Troy

Stages of Grief

About a week and a half ago, I went to a talk that was being held by the American Foundation of Suicide Prevention.  It was called Complicated Grief: Bereavement after Suicide Loss and I thought it would be something that would be helpful in my grieving journey over the loss of Tiffany.  What I learned was something unexpected and eye-opening.

The lecture was given by Dr. Natalia Skritskaya, Ph.D. from the Center for Complicated Grief.  During the presentation, I learned that there are stages of grief.  There's acute grief and integrated grief, and along with both of those stages, is mourning.

The first stage or process of bereavement, acute grief, is defined as the initial reaction to loss, which differs from bereavement or mourning.  It may present physical symptoms such as shortness of breath and a tightness of breath in addition to emotional, spiritual and behavioral responses.

Acute Grief Responses

As one processes acute grief into integrated grief or abiding grief, the deceased can easily be called to mind, often with associated sadness and longing.  During the transition from acute to integrated grief, usually beginning within the first few months of the death, the wounds begin to heal, and the bereaved person finds his or her way back to a fulfilling life.  The reality and meaning of the death are assimilated and the bereaved are able to engage once again in pleasurable and satisfying relationships and activities.  Even though the grief has been integrated, they do not forget the people they lost, relinquish their sadness nor do they stop missing their loved ones.  The loss becomes integrated into autobiographical memory and the thoughts and memories of the deceased are no longer preoccupying or disabling.  Unlike acute grief, integrated grief does not persistently preoccupy the mind or disrupt other activities.  However, there may be periods when the acute grief reawakens.  This can occur around the time of significant events, such as holidays, birthdays, anniversaries, another loss, or a particularly stressful time.

Grief & Bereavement

And then there is mourning, which is defined in Wikipedia in the simplest sense, as synonymous with grief over the death of someone.  The word is also used to describe a cultural complex of behaviors in which the bereaved participate or are expected to participate.  Customs vary between different cultures and evolve over time, though many core behaviors remain constant.  Wearing black clothes is one practice followed in many countries, though other forms of dress are also seen.  Those most affected by the loss of a loved one often observe a period of grieving, marked by withdrawal from social events and quiet, respectful behavior.  People may also follow certain religious traditions for such occasions.

What I also learned is that there is another stage of grief.  A state of being, if you will, that I was totally unaware of called complicated grief.  This is an intense and long-lasting form of grief that takes over a person’s life.  It is natural to experience acute grief after someone close dies, but complicated grief is different.  Complicated grief is a form of grief that takes hold of a person’s mind and won’t let go.  People with complicated grief often say that they feel “stuck.”

What is Complicated Grief?

The term “complicated” refers to factors that interfere with the natural healing process.   These factors include:

• Strong feelings of yearning or longing for the person who died
• Feeling intensely lonely, even when other people are around
• Strong feelings of anger or bitterness related to the death
• Feeling like life is empty or meaningless without the person who died
• Thinking so much about the person who died that it interferes with doing things or with relationships with other people (rumination)
• Strong feelings of disbelief about the death or finding it very difficult to accept the death
• Feeling shocked, stunned, dazed or emotionally numb
• Finding it hard to care about or to trust other people
• Feeling very emotionally or physically activated when confronted with reminders of the loss
• Avoiding people, places, or things that are reminders of the loss
• Strong urges to see, touch, hear, or smell things to feel close to the person who died

They have also learned that there are certain types of people who are probably at a heightened risk:

• women appear to be more susceptible than men
• people who are vulnerable to mood or anxiety disorders
• those who had a difficult relationship with their parents growing up
• losing a loved one in a sudden, violent way

Most people who have complicated grief have lost someone very important with whom they have had a positive, rewarding relationship.  Most commonly it’s a child or a romantic partner.

For parents, the death of a child may be the most difficult experience a person ever faces.  Parents begin to care for a child as early as conception as they imagine what the child will be like.  Taking good care of a child is often the most important thing in a parent’s life.   A child’s death triggers feelings of care-giving failure.  The loss of a child can sever a parent's feeling of connection to the future.  Losing a child can feel to parents like losing a part of themselves.

And grief can sometimes be further complicated when a loved one dies by suicide since survivors almost always blame themselves.

I walked out of that room that day and realized that I had not moved forward very far on that path I trod, that road of grief, at all.  I have let Tiffany's death define me for the last three years in many, many ways.  That's not to say that I haven't made any strides toward healing but that I get to a certain point past which I can't seem to progress.  Then I slide back to all those overwhelming feelings of grief and anguish and the process starts all over again.  So now I need to commit to moving past the roadblock in my mind and it is my hope that this blog will help me accomplish that task.

Yesterday, I read something that really hit home.  I've included the link below.  In this article, the author talks about agony and strength.  She puts into words what has been going through my mind but that I could never verbalize.  And that is that the agony and pain of Tiffany's death will never end -- it will be mine until the day I leave this earth.  And that as much as I think that I can't do this day in and day out, I have and I will.  I really have no choice.  But most significantly, when people tell me how strong I am, it is not from being strong at all.  As the author says, "there is no strong when it comes to the death of a child".  And she's right.  It's not about being strong; it has nothing to do with being strong.  It's all about perseverance and putting one foot in front of the other day after day, hour after hour, minute after minute.  And unfortunately, one would have to experience this type of loss, this kind of pain, to understand.

Suicide, Our Children and Grief