Cameron was an amazing little girl who died on January 19, 2006. She was truly one of the most precious people to ever walk this earth. As her parents, we will never be able to express the loss we feel now that Cameron is gone. Walking along
One of the things that happens to a person when she experiences a trauma is that her brain alters itself in order to allow her to survive the trauma. For the first 4-5 weeks after Cameron’s accident, the scene constantly replayed in my head. I would see it over and over again like I was watching a movie. I finally went to therapy because I knew I couldn’t bear to keep watching it play out, unable to change the outcome. After a few weeks of therapy, the movie was turned off– but other things took its place.
I experienced guilt of huge proportions. Anger, loss of faith, loneliness, bitterness, sheer agony, helplessness. I can’t even explain all the places my mind went trying to grasp what happened to our family. I am really proud of how far I have come and what I’ve been able to accomplish despite my overwhelming, unimaginable loss. But here’s the thing– my brain is still protecting me. And I am torn. On the one hand, I have truly made major strides. I’ve learned to live again, be a mom, a wife, a doctor. I’ve learned to be a friend. I regained some passion for what is important to me in my life. I’ve reconnected with God, who never gave up on me. But… I’ve lost so much in the process. I’ve lost Cameron, that goes without saying and yet I must say it. But I have lost the thing that made me, well, me. I’m not sensitive. I rarely cry. I don’t emotionally attach to situations, stories, people. I am blocked. In my head I can be mad, happy, frustrated, please, infuriated. But in my heart I am still numb. I don’t feel thinks– I just think them.
So what is so wrong with that? Nothing, in some ways. I mean, it is easier to just be able to hear or see something horrible and think, “That’s terrible” and then be over it. I don’t take my patient’s problems home with me. I don’t worry and worry about things the way I used to. But, I feel empty. I feel less than whole. And I cannot experience Cameron the way I want to, the way she deserves. And I know it is just because it would hurt too much. I appreciate what my brain is trying to do for me. But, God, I miss Cameron. Not just her being here, but what she meant to me. She was my first born, the baby I worked so hard to conceive. The sweetest and cutest and smartest little jewel of my heart. How can I survive her? What kind of mother am I to be able to go on as if it is okay that she is gone? How do I keep her real, her name and spirit alive, when my brain works overtime to let me forget?
So maybe when I go on this 3 day- 60 mile walk, I will learn to feel again. I will be able to honor her life and feel her presence with me. I hope to have a truly emotional and religious experience. I hope to feel alive and know that she is with me, every step of the way!!!
Posted in Susan's diary |
October 28th, 2008 at 8:19 pm
I love you girl! I truly can’t imagine what you’re going through, I only wish there was something I could say/do to make it better. I know I can’t, but please do know that you have lots of people loving you every day. I look forward to hearing about your journey next weekend. I think/hope it’ll be very rewarding for you! Best of luck, my thoughts are with you always!
love
Carrie
October 29th, 2008 at 7:09 am
Then your prayer will be my prayer during your walk. I know God has something big planned for you that weekend. Keep looking forward to it!
October 29th, 2008 at 7:45 am
One more thing. I read a comment from a dear friend of yours. It was very comforting and heartfelt. But I disagreed with one thing–that Cameron misses you. Now don’t get me wrong–I believe she is happily awaiting you. But missing someone is not a good emotion. Just search the Bible and no doubt remains–there is nothing “not-good” going on there. (Revelation 21:4
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”) Cameron is not just in heaven–she is among the greatest in heaven. How do I know this?
Matthew 18:2-6
2 Jesus called a little child to him and put the child among them. 3 Then he said, “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven. 4 So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.
We KNOW that little children are welcomed into the Kingdom of Heaven as the greatest there. And we can be the greatest there, too, if we “turn from our sins” and “humble ourselves.” I want to do that so I can be among the greatest in heaven. I want to do that so I can be with Cameron in heaven. Jesus called heaven “paradise.” (a place of great and perfect delight and beauty). I’m missing her–FOR SURE. But her life is way too perfect to be missing me.
Your blog postings break my heart. I feel helpless to help you as you are left with a hole in your heart. What I think you’re feeling is homesickness. Homesick for your true home. Bart Millard from “Mercy Me” wrote a song called “Homesick.” He also wrote this: “In 1 Corinthians 13:12 Paul tells us that ‘For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I shall know fully just as I have been fully known.’ That may explain why sometimes it can feel like we’re fumbling through this life with poor vision and broken eyeglasses. But you have to read the whole verse to really understand the beautiful promise that one day we will see everything clearly. The puzzle pieces will fit into place, the mystery will be solved, our questions will be answered. Our homesickness–my homesickness–will find an end. For now, though, the journey isn’t over. We continue on, relying on God’s guidance to point the way until we reach our final destination and can at last hear Him say, ‘Welcome Home.’”
I love you Susan and Derrick.
October 30th, 2008 at 9:36 pm
Susan….what an honor for us to be able to see your grief/walk/feelings/pain….you are so brave to work through this every day. I am praying that in this walk, you won’t be alone…. you will have the Holy Spirit rigth beside you speaking words of wisdom and hope that you have never heard before. I pray he breathes life back in to your bones, muscles and heart….that he places peaceful dreams and visions in your mind…I pray it is an encouter where you meet with the Lord and see that He has is as expectant as you are about your time together!
Love you…
October 30th, 2008 at 9:55 pm
I will be praying for you before and during the 3 day. I hope you have an awesome experience. I love the Komen Foundation, and I always do everything I can each year to support it. A promise from one sister to another, to help find a cure. It is so beautiful and bittersweet!
In the past 4 and a half years I have experienced how amazing a mother’s love is for her child. In fact, I am not even sure it can be put into words sometimes. I still can’t begin to imagine your pain, and I pray to God that I never have to. Just know that you will always have a special place in my heart. Cameron will too! I can still hear her singing nursery rhymes to me in Monday Morning Break! I loved that. Your girls brought a lot of joy to me! Before I go, I want to share a verse with you that is very dear to me, and I hope you enjoy it too. “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” 2 Timothy 4:7.
November 3rd, 2008 at 1:51 pm
Dear Susan and Derrick:
Thanks for being able to aptly express the thoughts, feelings, emotions,physical pain, etc. that all of us who have lost our precious children experience. We think of you daily.
Larry and Gayle Allford
November 12th, 2008 at 9:25 am
Susan, the walk was such an awesome experience. I’m so grateful that we are now retired and were able to experience it with you. It was so inspiring to see all those people putting forth their maximum effort to do something for the good of the world. I’m so glad you were a part of it, and I’m so proud of you. You got outside of your own pain to help others and to make a difference.
Thanks so much to your wonderful husband Derrick for making it possible for you to train those long hours. What would we do without him?
Love you!
Mom
December 30th, 2008 at 5:37 pm
The last time I saw Cameron was on the New Year of 2006. We spent a few days in McAlester following Christmas in Jonesboro. We went to a birthday party for a little friend. It was on the theme of “Poodles” and was very cute. Then we went to my cousins Sherry and Wayne’s 40th anniversary party. Cameron was very interested in serving punch to everyone. We played games on New Year’s Eve and left the next day. I had no idea it would be the last time I would see her.
As the New Year of 2009 approaches, I am filled with memories of Cameron. She was a bright spot in my life. I miss her and am grateful for having known her.
GrAnn-Ma