Trauma interference
NOTHING about the last 3 months has been easy. I have been doing paperwork for three solid months. No joke. Insurance forms, victim's advocate paperwork, getting any and all accounts switched over into my name, more insurance paperwork, survivor benefits paperwork, refinancing the house. It has really been non-stop.
A couple of weeks ago I got a letter in the mail stating that I needed to provide the life insurance company with a copy of the police report and the toxicology screen from the autopsy report in order to be awarded an additional accidental death policy. Because apparently the official signed copy of the death certificate saying how he died, and that it was in fact accidental, is not good enough. Never mind the fact that the death certificate is sealed and signed ONLY when all of the results from the autopsy are back and the cause of death on the certificate is BASED ON WHAT THE AUTOPSY RESULTS SAY. So off I went to the coroner's office. Can I just tell you how awful that was to stand there in that cold, sterile building and have someone hand me a detailed 6 page report on my husband's full anatomic state at the time of his death? Pretty damn awful.
And then it finally happened. Landon finally opened up about his father's death. He, like me, is an introvert and had not really been interested in showing any emotion in relation to his father dying. It was really starting to worry me, so I must admit I did feel relieved, although it was also incredibly difficult and I was crying right along with him.
Tonight, as I was putting Landon to bed he asked if the police would be returning Bill's bike to us. I told him I wasn't sure when it would happen, but I wasn't even sure I wanted it back because it might upset us to look at it since it was kind of wrecked. He started crying and said, "Well we love daddy, so we should get it back." I reassured him that when the time came we would all make a decision about what to do with it, while thinking, I'm pretty damn sure I don't ever want to see that thing. He asked why the car had to crash into him. "Was the girl talking on her phone?" I tried to explain about drinking copious amounts of alcohol all day and what that does to your brain, and then getting into a car and driving as best I could to a 6-year-old. He then asked about how people know what is against the law, and I had to explain that unfortunately not everyone choses to follow the law. He just sobbed and kept saying, "I love daddy. I love him so much." Over and over again. And every time it felt like I was just given the news that Bill was dead all over again. It was horrible. I tried to comfort him as best I could, but my God how do you comfort a child whose father was ripped from him so senselessly??? All he wants is his daddy, and that is the one thing I cannot give him.
I felt like a total failure as a mother. It is my job to protect my kids, and our current hell is making that damn near impossible. As hard as it was to go to the coroner's office and pick up Bill's autopsy, parenting my grieving children is a thousand times harder. I really cannot imagine anything more difficult right now, and I hope I never have to.
And then it finally happened. Landon finally opened up about his father's death. He, like me, is an introvert and had not really been interested in showing any emotion in relation to his father dying. It was really starting to worry me, so I must admit I did feel relieved, although it was also incredibly difficult and I was crying right along with him.
Tonight, as I was putting Landon to bed he asked if the police would be returning Bill's bike to us. I told him I wasn't sure when it would happen, but I wasn't even sure I wanted it back because it might upset us to look at it since it was kind of wrecked. He started crying and said, "Well we love daddy, so we should get it back." I reassured him that when the time came we would all make a decision about what to do with it, while thinking, I'm pretty damn sure I don't ever want to see that thing. He asked why the car had to crash into him. "Was the girl talking on her phone?" I tried to explain about drinking copious amounts of alcohol all day and what that does to your brain, and then getting into a car and driving as best I could to a 6-year-old. He then asked about how people know what is against the law, and I had to explain that unfortunately not everyone choses to follow the law. He just sobbed and kept saying, "I love daddy. I love him so much." Over and over again. And every time it felt like I was just given the news that Bill was dead all over again. It was horrible. I tried to comfort him as best I could, but my God how do you comfort a child whose father was ripped from him so senselessly??? All he wants is his daddy, and that is the one thing I cannot give him.
I felt like a total failure as a mother. It is my job to protect my kids, and our current hell is making that damn near impossible. As hard as it was to go to the coroner's office and pick up Bill's autopsy, parenting my grieving children is a thousand times harder. I really cannot imagine anything more difficult right now, and I hope I never have to.
Comments
Post a Comment