Heavy Is My Grief

                                 Heavy Is My Grief

Weighing down my arms and legs

My eyes, feeling too heavy to open

Grief making each breath feel trapped

Halfway between my stomach and my throat

Where it would catch

And then each time, I would come back in a panic

To the future that I didn’t want to be a part of

And I’d remember to inhale            exhale             inhale

Just to start the process all over again

I started to talk to you, and tell you

How life has been going

But I stopped

Because this time I couldn’t.

So heavy is my grief

This time, I don’t want to imagine what your life would be like now

The what if’s don’t matter anymore

They’ve been taken away and now you are just GONE

Just gone.  Never to be held, touched, hugged, caressed, kissed again.

I’ll never get to listen to your silly jokes, or hear that laugh, so full of joy 

Who will I make whole bowls of potato salad for now?

Or watch, amazed as you hit the buffet 3-4 times before you stuff food into your cheeks and gums “for later”

My silly, beautiful, greedy, kind, funny, generous, forgiving girl is just GONE

And right now, I’m just feeling real heavy and real angry in my grief.  Not healed at all.  I feel like I need to start my healing journey all over again, yet I know that this is actually a part of the journey.  We go back and forth.  But right now.  Heavy is my grief.

The Place She Used To Hide Out

The Place She Used To Hide Out

There used to be a time when her bedroom was the the place where she used to hide out.  It was her sanctuary, her reading nook, her place to regroup and to escape all of the bullshit that life had thrown her way throughout the day, the week, the month.  She knew that no matter how hard work was that day, when she got home; she could count on going upstairs, kicking off her heels, shedding her bra, putting on her most comfortable muumuu and closing the door to her inner sanctum.

There used to be a time when she could enter her room on a Friday night, and not leave it for the whole weekend.  She had an attached bathroom, so there was no need for her to leave.  She could order food to be delivered, or have someone just bring her a plate from downstairs.  That was a benefit of having older children.  Sometimes, her room would even be the place where her children chose to hide out.  And she didn’t mind that.  Her children seemed to love the peace that the room brought them just as much as she did.  She could be laying in bed, and one or both of them would come in, light an incense and just curl up on the bed with her.  Content to wrap an arm around her leg, or rest the head on her arm.  Or they would meet her at the door after she got home from work, with mischievous smiles on their faces, holding a giant Walmart bag of junk food...letting her know it was going to be “Girls night in Mummy’s bed”.   And they would all curl up in their pajamas, eating their favorite ice cream out of the cartons, watching trash tv and eating ridiculous amounts of candy until they all fell asleep still laughing. 

After the tragedy, the bed became the place she hid out for different reasons.  She didn’t want to face the world.  Couldn’t face them.  She hid out in her room, hoping to disappear forever.  But her friends wouldn’t allow her to do that.  Tiffany and Tee would sit quietly by the side of her bed, watching over her.  Nobody spoke the words, but they didn’t have to.  They wanted to make sure that she didn’t hurt herself.  She said no words.  Just rocked herself in between fits of crying.  Eventually, days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months.  Tiffany and Tee turned into Michelle and Mani.  Michelle became the Mother she had so needed her own to be in her life.   She dedicated herself to being a daughter and a sister.  And then…..tragedy.

And after tragedy, heartache, anger, hurt, confusion.  And then a new life.  And suddenly, the place she used to hang out became a place for new life.  There was no way to hide out anymore.  There was this beautiful new life that needed her and smiled when she was tired and ready to give up.  And then there were two new lives.  And the place that she used to hide out was no longer her place anymore.  Now the two new lives had taken over the place.  Now there were some nights, she would actually get up and go to sleep in the living room, just to have a few moments of quiet time to herself.

And then the final straw.  She was finally happy again.  Living in a brand new place.  Loving the new space that she could call her place to hide out.  And then she was attacked.  In that space.  Violated in the space that she needed to feel like she could go to be in her sanctuary.  And she was destroyed all over again.  But this time, it was temporary.  She worked through it, reclaimed her space, rearranged spaces and renamed it.  And now it is “The Place She Calls Her Sanctuary” and “A Place of Love”.

 

Heartbreak

Today marks the first day I have been back to "social media" this week.  I'd taken a break this week.  Not quite sure if I'm yet ready to come fully back yet either.  This blog may be my only little bit of return.  Not even sure if i'm ready to be quite fully transparent about this whole situation yet.  But we know I have never been anything less than transparent about my life.  It's been a rough week for me emotionally.  A rough, rough week.  Extremely painful.  Extremely triggering emotionally.  

I guess I should start it off by saying last year I started noticing a little change in my daughter when she got a promotion at her new job.  I started noticing her attitude toward me sort of shifted and she began to give me a really condescending tone and making these little snide remarks to me.  I honestly felt like she felt like was better than me, or looked down on me because she was bringing in more money than me.   And each time I would mention it to her, she would speak down to me even more and say that I was being too sensitive, or that I wasn't watching how I spoke to her, so why should she watch how she spoke to me (?? I don't speak to her or anybody else disrespectfully, so I'm not sure where that came from)  So this has just been ongoing for the last year.  Sometimes small remarks, sometimes a little more disrespectful to where it will piss me off for a few hours or a day, but never too much.

So, Saturday morning, she said one of these little snide remarks to me and it annoyed me, but it didn't piss me off..it just irked me.  I went in my room and closed the door to work on a project on my laptop,  Nothing more, nothing less.   A little while later, the baby started banging on the door and wanted to come in, and the next thing I hear is "Na'eem..leave Nana alone.  She doesn't want you around her!  She doesn't want to see you.  She's mad at Mommy"  Ya'll..when I tell you...at that moment, my heart BROKE.  That she would say something so CRUEL to a small child...to say nothing of the fact that it was absolutely untrue..but it was just freaking CRUEL...you just don't say say shit like that to a small child.  And just because she wanted to hurt me.  I unplugged my laptop and packed it and the cord, plus my phone charger and a few other things and just got ready to roll out for the day.  I knew I needed to leave the house for the day.

So, I'm getting ready to leave and as I got to the front door, she is sitting on the couch just looking pissed off, looking at the floor...tv..anything but me.  So I said.."You don't have to look at me, but just know..what you just said to that little boy...that was cruel..and that shit was not cool..I need.." and that's as much as I was able to get out because homegirl just went to the LEFT on me.  But the thing is...it came out so calm and so ....I don't even know the word.  I can only explain her face...there was so much HATRED in her face when she turned and looked at me.  There was no anger, there was no sadness...it was like a smirk and absolute hatred.  And her voice was calm and collected and she just said "As far as I'm concerned, You can just pack your shit and move out.  Go to Aunt Steph's house"  And I truly think I felt my heart shatter at that moment.  But then it got worse..as if it could get worse.  Then she says "I'm sick of raising 3 kids" "I've been raising you since Aja was killed.  I never even had a childhood.  When was the last time you even asked me how I was feeling?"  And my heart truly was shattered.  It wasn't the childhood part....all of that was bullshit.  She had been spoiled and entitled her entire life as the baby of the family.  But to say that she had been RAISING me..and to say that she had been doing it since Aja had been killed.  She knew exactly where to stick that knife and twist it fatally.  She knew I've often felt guilt over the times when I've been sick and hospitalized or times when my grief has overwhelmed me since Aja was killed, and for her to essentially call me a useless child...it devastated me.

Maybe I have been spoiled, but I truly have gone thru my parenting experience being blessed with children who had never disrespected me.  Who had never disrespected each other.  We have clung to each other because we were all we had.  It was like the 4 Amigos.  Literally.  Aaron and Aja were always best friends, Aja and Imani were best friends, as Imani got older, she and I became best friends...but growing up, we were just the 4 best friends.  And then Aja was murdered and we were just 3,  And Aaron was living separately with his wife..so it was just me and her.  And then Michelle came down and it was 3 of us again....and then Michelle had her tragedy...and left us...and its the two of us again...and April came to SC, but she moved out quickly.  And to add hurt on top of hurt on top of hurt...after everything she says to me...Imani tells Aaron that he is cut out of her life and breaks HIS heart.  So now, not only is my heart shattered, but so is Aaron's.  She has also blocked everyone that associated with me, the family or friends from contacting her.  Except for the one person who she is close to that I have had to now step away from just so I don't feel resentful.

And the only way that Aaron and I can compare it is...we are now grieving the loss of the last of the girls.  And we are all that we have left.  Yes, she is still alive..but like Michelle, she is no longer in our life.  And my heart is completely broken and lost right now.   And I don't know how to console my son on the loss of a sister who is not gone physically, but has removed herself by choice when he has done nothing at all to deserve that.  Everyone is like..give it time, she will come around.  But can those words she spoke...can those ever be unheard?  I don't know that they can.  I will hear those words in my head and in my heart until the day I die.  She is my child and I will love her until the day I die, but those words will forever hurt me, even if she does decide to make her way back. 

I think this may be one of those blogs that I post, but don't actually share to the usual spots.  If you subscribe, you will read it and that's fine...like I said..I'm a transparent person.  I dunno.  I'm all over the place right now. 

*taps the mic* Is This Thing On?

So one of my friends suggested that I write, and it reminded me that I actually do have this blog...I've just become lazy about updating it.  But I realize that writing really does bring me pleasure, and it helps me to clear a lot of sh.... junk out of my head space...so it wouldn't be such a bad idea to start back up.  Because lately...my head space has been a bit janky.

I guess I should do a sort of intro, even though I've had this blog for like ugh...10 years or so now (if you scroll back, you can read old posts) I know there may be some new readers who are new to me, new to my crazy life...and the crazy stories I tend to tell.

I'm Lisa...Lis...LiLi...all of the above.  52 years old.  I live in Boston.  Born and raised here, but I spent the years of 2008-2017 in South Carolina (mainly in Columbia) and also consider that home.  I moved back to Boston to be closer to my family and support system, as my health was getting worse (severe asthmatic, congestive heart failure and spinal stenosis)

I'm Mama to 3.. Aaron is 32.  Happily married to Laura.  Aaron was born with 2 types of malignant cancer and a syndrome called Epidermal Nevus Syndrome (where the body reproduces different types of cancer).  He also has Asperger's, which is on the Autism spectrum.  He was also born with some congenital birth defects.  His first years were basically one big hospital visit, between specialists, chemotherapy,  surgeries and emergency visits.  But he is doing awesomely now.

Next up is Aja Dawn.  Aja is forever 23.  Her life was taken at the age of 23 on June 13, 2014 in an act of Domestic Violence.  She was an amazing young woman, and I'll probably share a million stories about her.

The last of my biologicals is Imani.  She is 20.  We were told when was 2 that she would diagnosed as bipolar by the time she was 7.  Unfortunately, it presented so severely that by the time she was 5, we already had that diagnosis by one of the top children's psychiatry units in Mass.  She's had her ups and downs.  As I'm sure those who love someone living with bipolar disorder know, you have your good and bad days.

And lastly...we have Thing 1 (Bryson- 3 y/o) and Thing 2 (Na'eem 2 y/o).  They are the grandsons that I am raising.  Both have some health challenges that keep me pretty busy.  Bryson was born prematurely with gastroschisis (his intestines were outside of his body) He spent approximately 6 weeks in the NICU, where he had surgery to insert the intestines.  But as a result of the birth defect, he has short bowel syndrome.  He is also non verbal autistic.  In the last 6 months, he has learned SOOO many words though!!  And he uses them. A LOT.  Na'eem is my lil Mr Personality.  He loves to entertain.  Severely asthmatic since about 6 months old, he has spent a lot of time in the hospital, but it doesnt slow him down at all.

Whoooo... that's a lot of reading huh??  Warning...I'm wordy asf.  Oh yeah, and I cuss.  I'll try to ease up on the cussing in the blog though.  But I definitely talk alot.  I just wanted to give ya'll a backstory into who I am as a person and where I'm coming from as a woman, as a writer and as a human being though.  Some entries may be wordy like this..some may be short n simple.  

I still have to write an intro about my "forever kids".  They are not mine by birth, but I claim em as mine and I love them like my own, so I talk about them a lot.  Anyway....deuces for now.....✊🏼✌🏼

And Now The Tests Become Testimony

My friend Tee and I have been bouncing this idea for some time now.  Speaking and writing HONESTLY about our trials.  And eventually writing a book.  There has been SO much pain..that sometimes ALL we can do is throw up our hands and say...EFF it God.  What else ya got for me man?   

So...this is my honesty.  My truth.  It's not pretty.  A lot of it is not public information and it may shock people.  You may even want to stop reading now.  That's just being real .  I'm not writing it to gain sympathy or to depress anyone.  It's to say..if I can weather these storms, YOU can also do this.  And if you need help, we will weather them together.   That being said....

June 13, 2014 my 23 year old daughter Aja Dawn Robinson was brutally murdered by her ex-boyfriend.  She was executed with a shot to her throat with a 45, and then he stood over her and shot her in the back of her head.  He then took his own life.  The grief was incredible.  And the after effects a little too much to bear.

I made a half assed attempt on my life  in July by driving into traffic and was hospitalized and received treatment .  My younger child  made an attempt on her life  in August.  She was also hospitalized and treated.  During this time, my 23 y/o's "twin" ( her best friend that I had taken in at age 14) returned to live with me, as she was having a difficult time coping with Aja's murder.   On Thanksgiving eve of 2014..you guessed it...she swallowed multiple  bottles of pills.  Thanksgiving of 2014 was spent in the ER while she  received an emergency psych eval and  treatment.

With time, we got stronger.  We are all actively working thru our grief and I have started a fb group and a small still forming non-profit called Angels for Aja.  We will provide domestic violence education, awareness and assistance to anyone who requests our help.  In addition, we plan to participate in community events and keep Aja's name alive through love and actions.

On May 15, 2015..Michelle had a severe asthma attack.  She lost her heartbeat and pulse and was brain dead for 28 minutes before they could revive her.  She was on life support in a coma from May 15 until mid July.  She is now home, but at just 24, she is confined to a wheelchair, unable to speak, use her arms or legs, is in diapers and totally dependent for personal care .  The outcome is not expected to change.

Again..we bounced back.  We take care of her and attend to her needs.  Last week on Thursday, I went to the E.R. because I was having a pretty severe asthma attack.  Unfortunately, they admitted me within minutes and I got devastating news.  I have heart failure.  I have been in the hospital ever since.  And have spent today doing some heavy praying and thinking.  I AM a fighter, but I also am practical.  I was not prepared for my child's death.  I will not leave my remaining  children unprepared.  I plan to create my living and after death arrangements and have already spoken to the people who I would like to care for my children.

I plan to make EVERY moment that I am here a testament to the memory of Aja Dawn.  And to the strength of Michelle, Imani, April, Fred, Char, DaShawna, Jauhara, Kia and Aaron.  My children by birth and the children who I've been blessed to love in my life.   We cannot allow ANYTHING to crush our spirit.  I keep telling people...I miss Aja and for a while, I really wanted to go and be with her.  But not yet.  I'm not done here.  I'm not going to give up, but when my time comes, I'm at peace, as long as my babies are okay.   So...this is my truth.  I'm grieving, a lil crazy at times, struggling to stay afloat, angry, disappointed, terrified, heartbroken.  And STRONG.  I have to be after all this shit.  

Please love and protect the people around you.  I had a long talk with Char last night...very long.  And had to tell her some things that I know she was not ready for.  But she's one of my oldest kids and whether she believes it or not...she is one of my STRONGEST kids.  She now has a role.  To carry on my "Big Mama" role with April.  They are to make sure that all of the children remain in contact, remain a support to each other, have monthly dinners if they live in the same area, etc.  April is another who does not know her own strength.  She will though.  I see it in her.  I see the "big mama" makings in my girls, and I love it.  And I love them.   More to come.  I promise.  My story is not over yet.