Grief, when I can feel it.

Four years ago I was so angry at God. Why did he let Grace's cancer come back? How could he do this to her? The intensity of the pain I felt, the abandonment, was overwhelming.

And today, to the same depth of intensity, I find myself thanking him for sparing her. Another one of the kids she was in treatment with passed today. I think that makes thirteen. Thirteen children we know have passed from cancer. Grace doesn't know it's that many. I don't always tell her unless she asks about them and because we don't go to CHLA anymore, some are out of sight, out of mind. And I don't want to introduce that grief. 

But I feel the grief, to the degree I can find it.

It's so hard to acknowledge the pain of this child's passing because then I have to remember how afraid I was for my own daughter only four years ago. I don't want to remember. I don't want to think of the giant hole that little girl has left in her parent's hearts because then I have to remember my own fears of losing Grace. I've begun to realize that I've been forgetting. I don't know if that's good or not.

I saw a friend today whose daughter was also in treatment with Grace. She mentioned it was a good thing I was working so hard on the SSFL cleanup so I didn't have to deal with some of the grief and PTSD. And it made me wonder how much of that was true. And if true, is it a healthy way of dealing with it? Is it ok that I spend very little time remembering Grace's treatment, unless it's thrust on me like today with the little girl's passing? Am I in denial or am I moving on? 

I don't know. I really don't.

I'm not in therapy right now, though I'm considering going back to Celebrate Recovery. I've been a few times in the last few weeks. And I was glad that it didn't hurt as bad as it used to when I mentioned my daughter had cancer. I used to be so angry to be "that mom," the one everyone felt sorry for. I also don't know why I'm back in Celebrate Recovery because I don't know exactly what it is I need support for. I'm not codependent, I'm not dealing with anger issues, I'm not numbing myself, I'm not an addict. But I feel like I need something to keep me more balanced. So I don't lose myself in denial by working too hard. 

I'm more grateful than I am angry at God, but still broken that another child died of something that may have been preventable. I'm becoming a rather firm believer that most pediatric cancers could be prevented if they hadn't been exposed to toxic or radioactive waste. I have a reason to believe this little girl was. And that my little girl was. And that's why I do work too much sometimes. Maybe it is to escape the pain, because each time a child dies, it hurts. And maybe I can prevent more kids dying. 

Maybe. I don't know. I really don't.