Tuesday, November 10, 2009

tearin' up....

i still kinda go with the theory that i scared her.
that i was a little too free, not religious enough,
and that maybe that kept her from me. but it doesn't
really feel like it can be enough....

i remember the very last time i saw her, i held both
her hands in mine and i looked her straight in the
eyes and told her 'don't let anyone tell you what
you can and cannot do. don't let anyone take your
dreams from you.' and then i told her that if she
needed to talk, i was right there.

and then i stepped back.
because i never believed she really wanted to talk
to me about this stuff.
i had a really strong feeling she wasn't comfortable
with me.

i couldn't come up with any reason besides the religious
one. she was very very religious. i was not.

and she never came to me.
never wanted to talk.

six months later she took her life.

someone wrote to me today.
she's bein' there for her 15 year old granddaughter.
it's a rough road. but she's gonna be there for her and
try to help her become a strong woman.

i teared up.
and i thanked her for being there for her.
told her it mattered.
and that i wasn't there for someone.

i've been tearin' up ever since.

i know.
i know.
i offered.

i can't understand why she wouldn't come to me.
i think of myself as loving and open and warm.
why wouldn't she come to me???

i know.
i know.
i've told myself all the things you guys are thinking.

it's just that time of year.
almost the anniversary of her death.
she's on my mind every day.
and i keep thinking that i coulda been way way more

so why do i put this out there?
i really really don't want anyone to write and tell
me that i'm wonderful. thank you if you even think of that.

i put it out there cause i really think i dropped a ball.
no, i don't think i dropped the main ball.
there were people she did turn to.
people she did feel comfortable with.
people she did talk to.
and they did drop the ball.
they didn't listen.
they didn't act.

but at the same time.....there's a ball i dropped.

and the grandma that wrote me today brought it all back to

we need to be there for each other.
and if someone can't come to us, maybe we ought to check
in here and there and see if they need us to come to them.

maybe i just shoulda done that.....


Melissa said...

I have an idea of where you're coming from. Or at least, I think I do. I still struggle with all the ways I could have/should have been there for Emily... and I wasn't. No matter how many times people tell me that there wasn't anything else I could have done, I still think in my heart that there was.

Perhaps it would have made a difference.

Or perhaps it wouldn't have.

Thinking of you today....

Claire said...

terri. some people don't believe in any way they are worthy of care, or love. you cannot change who people are, or where they came from, or what they've been through.
you don't know what she might have grown up hearing about herself. you don't know what she might have been told repeatedly.
you were there for her. you offered. that is the most you can do.
the absolute most.
out of respect, we must accept what people choose for themselves. we can't control what others think or what actions they take. we just can't.
it's hard to accept, i know.
we can offer all the love in the world.
but....if someone has never known the kind of trusting love that you offer, how would they recognize it?

Sorrow said...

I often think that when we feel this way," there should have been something else I should have done. What did I miss?" kinda feeling, it is the love we hold in our hearts for that bright soul that has gone. It stays there and it beats in our hearts and tracks tears down our face, so that we keep trying to be there, to be present for the ones that we can save. The ones that haven't slipped thru yet. It's our gift to them and to ourselves. I hold this pain in my heart that I failed you. It is a tear that never mends, and I pour my love into the world, trying to be there for all the women whose face I look into and see your eyes.

Mona said...

Terri, I am the grandma you spoke of. Your writting made me shed some tears, motivated me to continue doing all I can to save my precious LeAnn, and if you can imagine it...close your eyes and feel it...I am sending you a hug. We are survivors and do what we can. Thank you for helping me today.