To My Guardian Angels
To those of you who have a fear of abandonment, I am right there with you. I normally don’t talk about it, but I definitely have a fear of abandonment. I was 12 years old before I knew the feeling of losing a loved one. I had never knew that losing people really existed. A lot of people, including myself, live with this mindset of being “invincible,” saying things like, “that will never happen to me.” When it does, it really takes you by surprise. I do think loss is healthy for people to experience, because it makes people more grateful for the things they have. It is part of life, it is very painful, but it is just a reality.
I was 12 when I found out my oldest brother passed away. I remember that it was a cold, Saturday evening in December of 2006. I had just gotten home from going to Marion to see the Christmas lights with my family and my best friend at the time. My friend was spending the night with me that night. I was sitting in my mom’s bedroom, as she gave me the phone. My dad broke the news to me, I hung up, became tearful, and kind of felt very numb. I did not think it actually happened, but indeed it did. My first thoughts were not about me, or how I felt. I remember thinking about his two young sons, who at the time was about to be 3, and one was 5 days shy of his 1st birthday. I thought about how their life would be so different, growing up without a father. Both of his sons have turned out to be wonderful, respectful, and smart young men, in which I am very proud of them for. They are both very different and I think that is what makes them so unique. The people I was more concerned with as time went on were the family closest to him. I did not feel like I should be near as hurt as those who were extremely close to him, because I knew other people were hurting more at the time. I wanted to be as strong as I could, for my nephews, and the other members of the family. Other people needed more support than me, and that is something I am proud of myself for always recognizing in difficult situations.
About three and a half months later, my oldest nephew, who was eleven at the time, tragically lost his life to suicide. I remember finding out the news, on a Wednesday night in March 2007. My mom drove me over to my dad’s house, and at the time, I had no clue why. My siblings and I gathered in our family room, as my dad broke the news. My siblings and family all started crying, and hugging each other and I sat there, on the couch and looked around the room. I thought I was a little broken at the time, because instead of crying, and hugging those close to me, I looked at my dad with this weird, facial expression. It was an expression of wanting to say “Ok dad, joke’s over what is really going on.” I did not say anything, I really thought this was not real and that we were being pranked. Now, I look back and think about how my dad would never prank us with something like that but as a 12 year old, I just really did not think about logic there. As my mom drove me home, I called my nephew’s cell phone to listen to his voicemail thing where I could hear his voice again. It started to feel more real after I had time to process it. In this case, I felt very confused, guilty, selfish, and really just numb. I felt confused, confused as to why this happened. I replayed so many situations back in my head, feeling like maybe if I was there for him, or maybe if something was different this wouldn’t have happened.
To this day, I could play so many scenarios back in my head as to what could have been done differently but it will not change the fact that it happened. The weekend before, he called my cell phone several times but I was not able to talk because I remember helping my mom set up something on our TV. I did not give him a chance to talk because we were busy doing whatever we were doing. I think back to that moment, and question if he was trying to reach out for help without saying it or if maybe he really was bored at the library and just wanted to chat with someone. I will never know the answer to that, but I do know that losing him gave me this powerful strength I did not have before. It gave me this overwhelming sense of feeling like I needed to be there for others who were struggling. I did just that too. I told his story, to classmates, to teachers, to suicide prevention groups in my elementary school. It would set me up to be the person who stayed up late at night to get tons of phone calls on my landline phone from friends who needed someone to talk to when they felt very low. I grieved very internally, and did not let on that I was more hurt than those closest to him. Those who were hurting needed more love, and more support than me. I could handle it on my own, because he would have wanted those who he was closest to have all of the love and attention focused on them for their healing. I may never know what caused this to happen, but I do know that it would only leave his legacy to live on and to encourage others to reach out for help when they feel that they most need it.
As if the last 6 months of my life were going great, I know now that maybe losing two of my loved ones would prepare me for a third loss, which would be one of the greatest losses I would experience. I was so blessed to have a grandma, whom I would call Grammy. She and I were two peas in a pod. She was my best friend, partially because I could play whatever games with her I wanted, eat whatever food I wanted, sing and dance to ridiculous songs in front of her, and she would love me just the same. She never judged me for being anything shy of myself. She honestly just liked me because I was her granddaughter and that was all she cared about. We would eat cheese popcorn, peppermint patties, play hours of 500 rummy on the couch and it felt like there was not a worry in the world. She cooked me my favorite meals, the simple, picky-eater type food, and she would eat it with me at the table without a single complaint. Her house was quiet, and I had so many different toys there. I felt like she encouraged me to express myself and I could be that weird, awkward kid and no-one would judge me for it. It was great. I do remember as a really young little kid telling her that once she died, I would have to die too because I couldn’t live without her. I like to think that without the loss of my brother or nephew, I would not have handled the loss of my grandmother very well. I think being exposed to what loss feels like and learning how to grieve gave me the tools I needed to survive losing my grandmother.
My grandmother got sick in June, fell at home, and ended up in the hospital with pneumonia. She passed away in the hospital a few days after. I remember my mom, my brother and I went to see her for what would be my last time saying goodbye, before going to see a movie theatre to see Shrek the Third. A few days later, I remember being at a family member’s house with my cousins and sister. They took our phones away for a while and we didn’t know why. After getting my phone back, my mom called me to tell me that my grandmother had passed away. I was preparing myself for a while now, partially because she had become so sick in the hospital. As a young child, she would take me to Catholic mass, and was very involved in her faith. She always talked about being with Jesus, and how she would cherish that day when her time would come. I remember telling my mom something along the lines of “She is with Jesus now, she is happy, she is not suffering.” I handled it well, I felt very numb to all of the emotions and grieved over the course of a few years. I might not have known what the intentions were to have lost so much so fast. I did know one thing though, if I had two guardian angels before, I had three at that moment. I am very thankful to have had time spent with her. She lived a good life, she shaped me into the human I am today, and she deserved to be at peace.
I tell these stories, not looking for sympathy for my losses because that is the absolute last thing I want. I share these stories because I know I am not the only person who has experienced loss. Some people have lost parents, spouses, children, friends, etc. We all grieve differently. We grieve experiences in life as well as losses. I think fear of abandonment comes from losses, and from experiences we face as we grow older. We learn from things, but we develop these fears we did not have before. Getting close to people for me, is terrifying. I separate my attachment to people so often because losing someone hurts way more than having no one at all. The problem is, losing someone hurts really bad for a moment, but it teaches you coping skills, and gives you strength you might not have had before. Being alone is great sometimes, because solitude helps me with my own sensory overstimulation, thoughts, and overall health. I know I need to overcome my fear of abandonment in my life, and I am working on that. I’ve lost relationships that I was too young to understand how to actually handle which has given me trust issues in my life. I can’t say that it gets better, because it really takes so much time and might not ever get 100% better. Take each day at a time, and remember that your fear of abandonment does not make you weak, or fully dependent on someone else. It means you become attached, open, vulnerable to someone you trust and you are relying on them to not break that. I want to work on my fear of vulnerability, and openness because it hinders me from having good, open, healthy friendships and relationships. I think we are all just a work in progress, and our timelines are different. Just remember, if you feel like you are at a low point, reach out to others. There are people who care about you, even if you feel like there might not be. Give those people a chance to help you, for your own sake and for the sake of loving them. Thank you for reading and I hope everyone has a blessed day.
To my guardian angels mentioned above and to the others who have passed since, you are always missed everyday. You are always in my heart, and will continue to live on in spirit. Lots of love.
