Words of Substance

Lives are made up of consecutive instances. Mostly these are mundane occurrences that have little significance in the larger sense. You get up, have breakfast, and go to the bathroom. You might make faces at yourself in the mirror while you brush your teeth, but nothing of note really happens. You go about your daily lives with normal starts and stops that are afforded to everyone. You go to work, you go home. You might start school for the first time. You might quit a job you have always hated. So far, so good. You fit into the normal spectrum of things. Possibly a carbon copy of who you most closely associate with. Some people are smarter and some faster. Some people have special talents or special accommodations that require accommodating. This is how things are. This is why people who live their lives in close proximity often have similar beliefs based on lessons learned during common experiences. It is only when change comes to an individual instead of a group that changes the dynamics of who we are.
The instances that take someone out from under the comfortable quilt that our hopefully idealic childhood of repetition has formed for us are the ones that change us. These, too are all consecutive instances. For some it may come young; the split of parents or abuse by one or both. The change may be the end of that abuse. It may be when you crash your first car, or cheat on your first girlfriend. Life changing experiences, all.
There are some moments that not only change you, but recreate you. It may be the words associated with it that does it. The word ‘cancer’ has this power. As does the word ‘terminal’ . For someone who has been given another chance, the word ‘forgiven’ can be just that.
My life is no different in the way it forms than any other. There have been many words that have changed my life. Many words have formed (or rather, reformed) me. The word ‘miscarriage’ certainly falls into that category. ’Come back to me. Come back to Texas’. ‘Marry me’. ‘It’s a girl! She is healthy’. All of these have changed me. But no words have changed me more than those I have said myself.

My husband, Richard Allyn Walters JR deployed on August 8th 2009. I spoke to him August 9th. On August 10th I was awoken by my mother in law who was up early feeding my daughter breakfast. She came to tell me that ‘Army guys are at the door’ looking for me. I knew immediately what this meant. I got up slowly and closed my eyes, reveling in the last second that my life was okay. I got dizzy, as is common from standing when your blood pressure is as low as mine. I walked out anyway.
I don’t know what they said. Or rather, I don’t know the words they said. After the first few words ‘we’re sorry to inform you…’ my brain took over. There was too much static in my head to hear the words, though I knew the message and could have recited it with him. Those were not the words that changed me. My own response is the one that has indelibly pressed into my soul. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” These words are now ‘me’ more than my own name. The fallout from the need to say these words will never end. Never in my life will there be a ‘normal’ again.

But maybe, just maybe I can find a new normal. A normal that won’t revolve around death, a normal that celebrates who my husband was, but doesn’t become homage to him. A normal that celebrates the life of my husband and the life I will forge ahead with with my girls. My life is full of little ladies now. My life is full of consecutive instances that each give me a chance to teach and influence our daughters.
I wonder, as I often do, what words will form them?
What words will now monumentally affect our little estrogen tribe?

you always write such beautiful things. I am, again, so sorry for your loss.

im so sorry about your husband.

GL mama.

I always enjoy reading whatever you have to say. It's always so strong and beautiful.

I am truly sorry for your loss.

Thank you for your support, ladies.
It helps me immensly just to have someone else read it.

Very touching and very well written. Those are definately words of substance.

i say those same words so often that i actually think about it. now, i will think differently.

right when i needed it, you and your girls got priority in my thoughts tonight. i am sorry that i had to gain perspective through your mind numbing, devastating story.

i am so sorry.

Every time I read your posts, it reminds me just how precious and short life is. I am so glad you can put these feelings out for us to read. Lives can change so drastically in an instant.

I am so sorry. Your family is in my prayers.

Quoting kaaw:“ i say those same words so often that i actually think about it. now, i will think differently. right ... [snip!] ... my thoughts tonight. i am sorry that i had to gain perspective through your mind numbing, devastating story. i am so sorry.”

There is no such thing as comparing grief. Grieve as much as you need for your own sorrows.

Quoting stephaniewalters:“ There is no such thing as comparing grief. Grieve as much as you need for your own sorrows.”

it is very impressive that you can feel that way. not many in this world would.

Quoting stephaniewalters:“ Lives are made up of consecutive instances. Mostly these are mundane occurrences that have little significance ... [snip!] ... I wonder, as I often do, what words will form them? What words will now monumentally affect our little estrogen tribe?”

FirstI am very deeply sorry about your loss. Reading you piece truly inspired me in a way. "Maybe I can find a new normal that's not revolved around death". Maybe I can follow your footsteps mami.

You know I dont know how religious you are so dont take me the wrong way, but maybe God puts us through things because he knows we are strong, and that we can help other people coop or live on with their sorrows.

You, for example, just inspired me to look ahead to have faith, to live on. And something told me to open the computer at 8 oclock in the morning go to baby gaga and click on your entry. Automatically I would of skimmed through it because it was so long. But this [articular morning I read EVER word and even TWICE.

My first and only child, Sergio Alexander Bunda Shevlyakov, grew his angel wings on October 7th, 2009. He was 6 weeks and 5 days. He was perfect, he was beautiful. He was healthy, my pride and joy. With babies we don't understand, especially with bigg healthy babies. He was healthy, what happned? It's all that's playing back to back in my head.
SIDS?
Not my son! Things like ISDS dont happen to me. What is SIDS? Where does it come from? I was healthy my whole pregnancy. I tryed to eat healthy, I limited on caffiene, I took my vitamins daily for the most part. I NEVER missed a prenatal appointment. He was born at 38 weeks 1 day gestation. Full term 8lb 8 oz. Bigg healthy boy. He was smart, he was beautiful. What is SIDS again?
I play that in my mind back to back, trying to figure out what happened. He must have chocked, he must have suffocated, he must have had a stuffy nose that blocked the airway. I try to invision of everything that could have happened. But SIDS? We never expect that. SIDS is basic way of say gone with no explanation. Now sit on that, is what they want us to do. No sickness, no choking, no explanation. SIDS. Sudden Infant Death Syndrom. SIDS.
And what is a mother to do without a child? How am I to go on?

But reading your piece brought tears. But yet in the worst of your suffering (please dont take this the wrong way) a light for hope had awakned for me.
Because maybe, just maybe, I can live a new normal too. A normal that does not revolve around death.

Quoting stephaniewalters:“ Thank you for your support, ladies. It helps me immensly just to have someone else read it.”

It's amazing that words so beautiful and eloquent can be born of so much pain and hurt.You keep writing, Ma….and sharing your thoughts, your fears, your anger…….your hope……and we will keep reading.

I wish I could give you a big hug right now. You are amazing!

Quoting R.I.P My Son 08.21.09-10.:“ FirstI am very deeply sorry about your loss. Reading you piece truly inspired me in a way. "Maybe ... [snip!] ... had awakned for me. Because maybe, just maybe, I can live a new normal too. A normal that does not revolve around death. ”

I am so sorry for your loss. Remember right now you are in the middle of it and cannot see through it. There is a whole lot of fog, isn't there? I wish I could say something soothing, but I know that isn't possible right now. I have a link to an article that may help you when you are ready to absorb it. I'll look for the link.

Quoting stephaniewalters:“ I am so sorry for your loss. Remember right now you are in the middle of it and cannot see through it. ... [snip!] ... possible right now. I have a link to an article that may help you when you are ready to absorb it. I'll look for the link.”

thank u mama,... i love to read..it helps a little