Five years angry!

Ok, so here it is five years.  I've wanted to write something ...and I've written lots...but I won't share.  The more time passes, the less I share!
But I'll tell how it is ....IT STINKS!!!!!  Far more than human words can capture.
Losing Phoebe has challenged every single aspect of my life.  There is nothing I do, we do, as a family, that doesn't carry the loss in some way ...big or small.  And most times no one wants to admit that ...because we just don't want it to be real that we've lost her.  So why do we have to chronically deal with so many reminders?
It's a long time, but it's really still today.  There's no 'healing' ...return to wholeness.  It just is, and we learn to live with it.  We laugh, smile, play, succeed, fail, fight, worry, cry ...and start all over again.  We live as best we can.  Lots of good things happen along the way.  But it still hurts, lingering, aching and longing for the return of my girl!
God stays my core, my grounding center.  And I dance around him like a disgruntled child.  Striving to choose joy and gratitude despite what's happened.  And He offers me bits here and there that keep me moving forward.  Friends who've stayed close by, keeping watch and sharing the tears. There's no words to describe that kind of friendship.  Some we thought good friends found reasons to leave.  And truth be told, as hurtful and hard as all that was ....it's a blessing because that's not what true friends do.  I could share a few stories ...doozies ...but why?  No one would learn from them ...you either have the fabric of true friendship, or you don't. It's that simple!
We have our support group, Compassionate Friends, where those stories can be told ...and they are common; predictable.  Newly grieving parents come in, surrounded by a swarm of caring people, and six months to a year later, most of those swarming friends have found a reason to disown you.  Doesn't matter how your child dies ....it's just too icky.  So, those who stay are gems, treasures that are the most genuine people walking this earth.
Five years ago ...and for a long time after, I talked and talked about it.  That's all part of making it real, processing, accepting the reality.  In time though, we learn to stop talking ...because it's more of a novelty for most. There's no way for someone to know this rugged terrain unless it's been walked.
God knows the walk ...and guides us as we let Him.
Just days ago I sat outside a cafe waiting for some colleagues to arrive for a meeting.  The day was beautiful and balmy ...similar to the day she died.  I heard a funny comment and looked up to see two of my friends.  Two empty chairs invited them to sit.  And for a few moments we just were with each other...they knew Phoebe's day approached.  Both lost son's to overdoses ...another stigmatized death.  And you should see the pictures ...handsome, strapping, kind, achieving young men.  Suicide and drugs don't sit well with most.  Nor should they!  But still, the stigma is so outrageous.  Most people want to believe they can control the life and death of a child.  I did too. One of my friends asked "aren't you just so tired?  ...so tired of carrying this grief; it just won't leave."  And I nodded ...yes I am so so tired.  And I miss, miss, miss.  Hugs mean a lot to us, so we tend to do a lot of that when we meet.  I'm a bit ahead of these wonderful mothers and I've watched and learned from them.  And yeah, in some ways it gets more bearable; but you know what ...it doesn't go away.  Just a few stolen moments with them grounds me ...makes me feel no so alone.
So while the world whirs around us and people forget ...we don't.  Our life is different.
We are different.  That's hard for people to adjust to ...they want the old person they knew back.
But she ain't comin'.  This is the new me!!!!
Five years out ...I've got far less to say.  I'm tired of the walk, and I'm tired of talking about it.  But I know more about who Phoebe is.
Phoebe is far more than her suicide.
Lots of people have pulled me aside, sent me a note or email, called me ...bared their souls and wept over fear for their own child.  Thinking somehow that I could give them the secret 'thing' I forgot to do that would have saved Phoebe.  They come to me when they are down and out, at their wits end with fear!  They don't say 'hey, how you doing?, can you spare a moment?'  They say 'only you'll understand ....'.  But you know what ...no I don't get it, no I don't understand ...you've weathered a particular storm ...your child MADE IT!!!!.  And once that darkness lifts, once they've weathered the fear ...I never hear from them again.  I might see them, but they look away, walk away, change their gaze.  Hmmmm!  But they do know something ...that I do too...their child is far more than whatever detour they were on ...they made it back.  And guess what else ...Phoebe is far, far more than her detour ...even though she didn't make it back!
And I wonder ...why didn't my daughter survive her detour?  And why didn't my two friends, and countless others kids, who die from a stupid moment of confusion, fear, temptation?  And why do other people get to pull me aside and purge then leave as if nothing ever happened ...as if it never cost me anything?
Maybe you can tell that at this particular point ...at five years ....I'm angry.  I'm angry about losing her!  I'm angry about my kids having to navigate life without her!  I'm angry at what her death has cost me!  I'm angry people think they get it when they don't!  I'm angry when people jump on a band wagon and pose as though they were so close to her, when in fact they made Phoebe very uncomfortable!  I'm angry someone would ask me to talk to their child so they won't do what Phoebe did ...I'm angry because no one sees the cost of all that!  I'm angry that my kids lost friends because their parents were too afraid to stare cruelty in the face and call it what it is!  I'm angry that the inconvenience and stigma of Phoebe's death doesn't fit in to the neatly arranged life of people I thought were friends.  I'm angry that I can't get angry at Phoebe anymore ...that I can't disagree with her and argue.
I'm just plain angry.  And that is what five years looks like!!!
The best anyone can do ...is pray for me, for my family, for Phoebe.  And pray for every other family that's lost as we have ...because they deal with the very same things.