There is a movie that will always be one of my all time favorites. I think I was 10 or 11 and I saw it in the theater with my mom, aunt and sister, which is funny since they are who I often still see movies with, and it was the first time a human death made me cry. Sure I cried when Harry had to go back where he was from and when Benji had to leave those baby cubs… sob…. But when Sally Field yelled “I’m FIIIIIINNNNEEEE!!!!!!!” I was in tears. At 10 I really didn’t understand much about loss. Hell, much about life. But I knew that was sad.
As I got older I rented the movie often and I could relate to more and more. The movie is a celebration of women. The deep relationships we need to function. An honest picture of how seasons and relationships change. I doubt anyone needs to know what I am talking about “the colors and blush and bashful” “the colors are pink and pink”. Steal Magnolias.
I still watch the movie and I sob. I know I am not the only one. There is that scene, THE scene where Sally Field had just buried her only daughter and she yells “I’m FIIINNEE! I could run to Texas and back, but my daughter can’t she never could.” Then sob. After that your heart aches. You believe that Sally Field has really just lost her daughter, because she is just that amazing (yes we really do like you!), but your heart feels trampled for her. You ache for her. Thankfully she had the group of friends she had to pull her out even if just for a moment to laugh, to break the tension. “Here hit her”.
But that moment, the one before the laugh, the one where Sally is yelling I’m FIIIINNNEE, you can feel her anger. An anger that is so deep from within if consumes your entire soul.
Anger is where I spent about 2 years of my life.
With a smile on my face and attending church weekly, I hated God. Who else could I blame? He was the one I spent my entire life praying to. Talking to. Confessing to. And he hands me this broken child for my first born? I can’t tell you how in the beginning I begged him. I pleaded with him. I got on my knees until the bruised. Yet when I got up, my daughter was still having seizures. She was still just laying there with no head control. I pretended that this was all ok, and honestly sometimes it was ok. I didn’t have as much of a problem with the physical handicaps Lily was showing, it was the seizures. I felt that the seizures were why she couldn’t see, why she couldn’t roll over, why she couldn’t ever just look me in the eye. I just thought if we could just stop these seizures life will change for her, but they never stopped.
Medication after medication, crazy ketogenic diet, VNS implant and when worse can to worse, brain surgery. All things I put all my hope in and all things that just crashed and burned. How many times can a person fall and get back up? One time Lily was in a large grand mal seizure and I was swiping her with the VNS magnet trying to make it stop but it wouldn’t, she just continued to seize, so I took that magnet and threw it across the room with all my might and said F-you God. F-you. Anger. So. Much. Anger.
I remember going to the mall with Lily, (because retail therapy is my friend) she was about a year, and we walk past a little girl in her stroller about the same age and the mom smiled at me and her little girl was holding a toy and looked up and smiled at me and I didn’t smile back. Who doesn’t smile at a mom and her baby? An angry person that’s who. I was so angry that my baby was reclining in her chair because she couldn’t sit up and she couldn’t hold a toy if I taped it in her hand. Anger. Anger consumed me.
**Leaving this like this is killing me; you readers know I tend to end light. Usually little words of wisdom, some cliché, or something ridiculous that has nothing to do with what I was talking about. I really want to continue my story, but I am not going to. I am doing this in stages and this was the ugliest one. The one I look back the most ashamed of, but you cannot appreciate the good without experiencing the bad. (ha I did it anyway….)**
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