Share if you have a daughter that makes your life worth living

In my previous life, as a side business, I created strategic social media plans for various organizations. As a side effect to that, I have become a stickler for social media etiquette. The dos and don’ts of the digital world. Don’t auto post to twitter from Facebook. Don’t share anything you haven’t read. Don’t fall for social media “chain mail”. Those sorts of things irk me.

Everyone has those people on their Facebook that are guilty of posting things for “brother week” and “cousin day”. Silly little JPEGs that go viral for weeks on end (how long is brother week anyway?). In The last number of days I have seen an increasing number of silly little pictures that state “share this image if you have a daughter that makes your life worth living”. Now, under normal circumstances, just the thought of hitting share on something like that, no matter what the occasion, turns my stomach. But at least a dozen times in the last few days my finger has hovered over the share button.

What would others think? Would they judge me because my daughter isn’t here? Would they feel sorry for me? Would they question if the thought of my daughter would make me want to die, and not make it worth living?

Get a grip Rhonda, they’re just Facebook trash.

The truth is, Everlee has brought me an insurmountable amount of joy. That beautiful little baby is everything I have ever wanted out of life. And for the nine months that she lived with me I knew what true and honest happiness was. That feeling is what I hold on to. Knowing that feeling, and that joy is what makes my life worth living every day, no matter how often I question if this crushing, soul sucking, all consuming grief is worth getting out of bed for every day.

Today, while out for my morning run to Starbucks my car steered itself to the graveyard. It’s only the second time since we buried her that I have been there. My only time having been there alone. I had no intention, when I woke up this morning, to go there. But something compelled me to go in. It’s a dreary day here. You can feel fall in your bones. The sky was grey, and although it wasn’t raining at the time, the sky was wet and damp. I hate days like this. Because, as morbid as it sounds, I think of her alone there, cold and wet. I think about how I wish I could cuddle her in a soft warm blanket and smother her sweet little face with kisses so that she doesn’t have to be alone in the cold and in the dark. I hate when it rains. So I sat there, by myself and I spoke to her, as I sometimes do. I felt closer though, knowing she was physically there. I told her I was sorry. I always do. I told her how much I loved her and I missed her. I cried my heart out. I cried until my chest was tight, my muscles were sore and people on the other side of the yard could hear me wail. I haven’t cried hard like that in a long time, and I think part of me really needed that. I have been working so hard to keep it all together that sometimes I forget that I really need to fall to pieces sometimes.

After about 15 minutes I picked myself up off of the ground and I moved on with my day.

I guess my point is this, I spend a lot of time wondering what other people think about the decisions I make and how I react when it comes to my daughter. The only thing I have to protect is her memory, and I do so fiercely. When it comes to religion and spirituality I don’t know what I believe in anymore, but I do believe that my daughter, my Everlee, knows that I love her more than life itself. So I won’t share that silly jpeg on Facebook. Instead, I will write here for all to see that Everlee Rose makes every day worth living, because I have to live my life for her now.


3 thoughts on “Share if you have a daughter that makes your life worth living

  1. Dear Rhonda: I was just on my way to bed, when I read your blog. My heart weeps when I read about you so lonely at Everlee’s graveside.
    This weekend we were away, joining a group of our friends out camping. As usual, McDad sang tons of songs that seem to pour out of him. People are amazed at his singing talents and the way he knows thousands of songs. What I was amazed at was that his voice never sounded so wonderful, and that when he sang those beautiful love songs, all I could think of was how much I wanted to hold your Everlee. I wanted Everlee to hear her Grandpa singing, and I wanted her to know how much he loved her. I wanted him to sing special songs, just for Everlee. I looked at the little fellas dancing around to his music and wanted him to be able to hold his granddaughter and sing songs to her. He had been busy learning songs last year, that he could sing on a tape, so she would know his voice. But when we alone, he said to me, – I didn’t sing “Everlee’s song” I said, I know, it was your special song for her. Did you know that he used to sing to Darcy as a tiny baby, and Darcy was always so calm when he heard his Dad’s voice. We wanted the same thing for your baby.
    So many times, I wanted to talk about Everlee to someone, but I don’t want to be the Grandma, that doesn’t have her grandbaby and that people will feel sorry for me. So I keep going and don’t say anything. When people ask, how is Darcy and Rhonda, I try to say, getting along, as good as they can. What I want to say is my kids are suffering and they are in pain, and I can’t help them. My hands are tied and it is a journey, that you two will walk together, but you will walk out of these clouds someday, when you are able.
    I don’t profess to know what you are going through, but I just wanted you to know that you are not walking this path alone. We will be at your side to talk and listen if you need us. It is hard to talk, feel and express our true feelings over the phone or on facetime. Sometimes, I try to be brave and say, it doesn’t matter that Darcy and you live so far away, but there is times, that I feel so much sadness, that we cannot enjoy the simple things together. But,,, then I think of you and Darcy and what you are trying to live through and I feel very selfish, that I can even think those thoughts.
    The only time, that we went to Everlee’s grave, I felt nothing but emptiness and pain too. She is not meant to be there. But we have to keep holding her in our hearts. To me, she will be forever be in her Mommy’s grin as she is going down a slide with her, she will be in her Daddy’s proud smile, while posing in a corn field on a bright sunny day in the fall, she will be with us in every pumpkin we carve, and she will have a special spot when we look at the beautiful picture of you and Darcy with your arms around her at the Christmas tree. I keep thinking that she would not want us to be crying and in pain, so much of the time, and I try to cheer up and make her proud of her Grandma. But sometimes, like when reading your blog it is impossible, because her Grandma’s has a broken heart, wanting her little grandbaby. I have no doubt that she could feel your love and Darcy’s in the months that you carried her and talked to her. I hope with all my heart, that she knows how much we love her too. Love to you and Darcy and especially to my beautiful little Everlee. Part of my heart is with you Everlee. McMom, Mom and Grandma

  2. Oh, I have been there this week. I have seen that graphic go round and round. You know what. I did share it, with the post, “I have two.” I was very nervous about it, then I started seeing the flood of likes on my post from friends, family, and more. It was nice to see all the support I received. Hugs, Momma.

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