Most of the week, I get by just fine. I stay busy enough that I don't have time to pause to think. I am totally able to give the canned answers that people expect when they ask how I'm doing or how Daddy and Mom are doing. And most of the time I don't even cry. If I do cry, I can usually shut them off pretty fast because I feel stupid when I realize that the other person has absolutely no idea what to say.

When I get to feeling sorry for myself, I watch a Lifetime movie about some poor lady who hires a nanny that sleeps with her husband and then kidnaps her kids. Or I'll start looking through other people's blogs. Seeing stories about parents who have lost their only child to war, or the woman my age whose little girl was unexpectedly born with down's syndrome, or the family who has two little girls with a terminal illness, make me realize that there are so many people in pain. Then there's the blog with the women who refuse to tell anyone the sex of their children or tell their children whether they are a 'boy' or a 'girl' because they don't want to "label" them or put pressure on them to be normal. They just make me feel like a pretty damn good parent.

Then, there are the other days. Like today. When I get so angry and so sad that I feel like I want to rip my skin off and be somebody else. Days when, in all honesty, I feel like I could run away- if it would do any good. I feel pathetic for feeling so pathetic. So the feelings of fear, anger, raw sorrow, embarassment- they just compound in my gut until I feel like my heart will explode into a million pieces because of the weight of those emotions.

I looked up the famous '5 Stages of Grief' today. I was hoping that Kubler-Ross could tell me how to feel next, or maybe tell me when I'll feel normal again so I can at least plan for that. Unfortunately, she did not. Here's what she says Daddy and I will feel:

The stages, popularly known by the acronym DABDA, include:^[2]

1. Denial — "I feel fine."; "This can't be happening, not to me."
   Denial is usually only a temporary defense for the individual. This feeling is generally replaced with heightened awareness of possessions and individuals that will be left behind after death.
2. Anger — "Why me? It's not fair!"; "How can this happen to me?"; '"Who is to blame?"
   Once in the second stage, the individual recognizes that denial cannot continue. Because of anger, the person is very difficult to care for due to misplaced feelings of rage and envy.
3. Bargaining — "I'll do anything for a few more years."; "I will give my life savings if..."
   The third stage involves the hope that the individual can somehow postpone or delay death. Usually, the negotiation for an extended life is made with a higher power in exchange for a reformed lifestyle. Psychologically, the individual is saying, "I understand I will die, but if I could just do something to buy more time..."
4. Depression — "I'm so sad, why bother with anything?"; "I'm going to die soon so what's the point... What's the point?"; "I miss my loved one, why go on?"
   During the fourth stage, the dying person begins to understand the certainty of death. Because of this, the individual may become silent, refuse visitors and spend much of the time crying and grieving. This process allows the dying person to disconnect from things of love and affection. It is not recommended to attempt to cheer up an individual who is in this stage. It is an important time for grieving that must be processed.
5. Acceptance — "It's going to be okay."; "I can't fight it, I may as well prepare for it."
   In this last stage, individuals begin to come to terms with their mortality, or that of a loved one, or other tragic event.

I was hoping that I was on acceptance and could prepare to neatly pack these emotions into a pretty box or organized filing cabinet and move forward. Unfortunately, Kübler-Ross added that these stages are not meant to be complete or chronological. Her theory also holds that not everyone who experiences a life-threatening or life-altering event feels all five of the responses nor will everyone who does experience them do so in any particular order. The theory is that the reactions to illness, death, and loss are as unique as the person experiencing them. Some people may get stuck in one stage.

Well, crap.

And, by the way, just in case you thought you had it all figured out with those 5 neat and tidy stages,

The extensive scientific studies of George Bonanno show that the Kübler-Ross stages of grief are, as Kübler-Ross herself explained, variable in extent and detail, and the entire process is not always completed.^[4][5] In Bonanno's book, "The Other Side of Sadness: What the New Science of Bereavement Tells Us About Life After a Loss,"^[6] he summarizes his rigorously peer-reviewed research based on thousands of subjects and conducted over more than two decades. His findings include that a natural resilience is the main component of grief and trauma reactions.^[7] The logic is that if there is no grief, there are no stages to pass through.^[8] Bonanno's work has also demonstrated that absence of grief or trauma symptoms is a healthy outcome, rather than something to be feared as has been the thought and practice until his research.^[9][10]
A 2000–2003 study of bereaved individuals conducted by Yale University obtained some findings that were consistent with the five-stage theory and others that were inconsistent with it. Several letters were also published in the same journal criticizing this research and arguing against the stage idea.^[11] Skeptic Magazine published the findings of the Grief Recovery Institute, which contested the concept of stages of grief as they relate to people who are dealing with the deaths of people important to them.^[12]

Thank you, Wikipedia, for being there at 4:30 in the morning when I need a shrink. Or some maybe less-than-reliable contradictory research.

So, Kubler-Ross and Wikipedia have no stage for freaking out about who you're going to call to side with you when you think you might have done something stupid and you need Daddy to tell you it's okay. There's also not a stage for how to sleep at night (without the help of cherry vodka) when your brain won't shut off, or how to stop taking your emotions out on your sweet babies. Thanks for nothing.

So, since I'm awake anyway, I need to make some additions to the Do's and Don'ts list. Please,
DON'T be offended if you've done a don't. Don't get all hurt and sad. I really only care a little bit if you do anyway, because my concern right now is what Daddy needs (and that should be your concern too), but I do care. We've all done don'ts.
I have an amazing friend whose husband has MS. They have two small children. I'm sure (although you'll never get her to admit it) that she experiences all 5 stages, plus my 3 additional stages and 10 more of her own, on a daily basis. One day, I was thinking about her and trying to imagine what I would need if I were her. I found some websites for people dealing with a spouse who has MS. I asked her if that would be helpful and she quickly told me that she is NOT into group therapy, especially with strangers. I felt stupid for a minute, but only because I really did want to help. So instead of crying and telling her that I felt really stupid (which would have seriously irritated her, I'm sure), I decided that I would just watch for ways I could help, because I knew if I asked she would never tell me. Besides, how did I NOT realize that she's perfectly capable of searching the internet herself if she wants to? Duh.
I have another friend who lost her Daddy to liver cancer before he ever met her babies. Then I have a friend who, in her lifetime, has lost a sister, a brother and a father. And another friend who cared for both of her parents in their final years of alzeimers and kidney disease. I wasn't there for any of them. I didn't know them, but even if I had, I wouldn't have done the right things, I'm sure. Now I know, though. I know what they know. That the people who help the most are the ones who expect nothing from you. The ones who are not offended when you tell them they're not being helpful. The ones who don't ASK you what you need- they just know. And then they do it.

But PLEASE,
DON'T cry to a sick person about how sad YOU are! Find another person to talk to about how sorry you're feeling for yourself, don't expect a person who is planning their eternity to make YOU feel better about the rest of your life.
And, on the other end of the spectrum,
DON'T avoid someone because you think you don't have the right words. You don't have to say anything deep and poignant, you just have to be there. Before you can't be anymore.

*rant off*

Dear Daddy,
Sometimes I feel guilty writing these things because I feel like I'm violating my own rules. But I'm guessing you already know how I feel anyway. ;0)  Sometimes I get so, so angry and scared that I want to scream at God, or run from Him- neither of which are really productive, or even possible. Then, sometimes, He will sneak in with something almost like a glimpse of my future. I can see, for just a moment, what a gift I have. This opportunity to love and appreciate you, to protect and advocate for you, to make sure that I've told you absolutely anything and everything I can think of that I want you to know. Oh, how I wish He would change his mind. But if He doesn't, at least He has given me time to accept His decision.
I used to love on rainy days when you would play "indoor hide and seek" with us (One of the very few things you could get Joe and me to play together). We ran and screamed with such abandon, we never wanted the game to end. Now, when I'm angry, sad, or just can't turn my brain off, I'll tell the girls it's time for indoor hide and seek. Sure, after the first time of Thing 2 standing in the middle of the room, covering her eyes, counting to 17 (while skipping 12, 14 and 15) and then screaming, "SIIIISSSY, you can't FIIINND me!" Thing 1 will sigh, "Hmphhh. Mooommm, I cannot PLAY with her because she doesn't DOOO it right!" But it gives me a reason to smile. Thank you for always giving me a way, and a reason, to smile. I love you.