If you haven’t read the first part of this story, my suggestion is you start there. You can click on the link “Her Words My Thoughts”. Thank you for taking the time to read my blog.
Things I Must Do…
Sometimes it seems so unreal that my mind tells me it’s just a horrible dream and when I awaken life will be back to normal – the way it’s suppose to be, the way it use to be. We’ll pick up right where we left off and everything will be fine.
My guess is, we’ll start with me planning another trip to Houston. I’ll call her and tell her when I’m coming. When I arrive she’ll pick me up at the airport and I’ll be so happy to see her again. It seems every time I see her after it’s been a while she looks so very young, so very pretty. I’m always amazed that I had something to do with creating this person – this well educated, well traveled, dynamic and vibrant young woman. I find myself amused at how she’s figured out how to navigate this big city with a nice home, a great career and a bright future. During this visit she will have planned so many things for us to do. At the top of the list, restaurants, shopping and movies… or maybe this time she’ll surprise me with something special like a day at the spa or she’ll cook one of her fabulous meals. Maybe for this trip she’ll take me to see some live entertainment – she always liked that sort of thing. We’ll have so much to talk about – so many things to say to catch up. It’s always like that. Even though we talk a lot on the phone, it’s not the same as when we’re together. At some point her friends will call and she’ll tell them “mommy’s here” and then without missing a beat she’ll say, “say hi to my mom” and quickly hand me the phone before I can say “I don’t want talk to them”. If by chance they want to visit or go out somewhere she’ll agree to it as long as they know it has to be something mommy wants to do.
As always, my little girl will want to go shopping. There’s something about “mommy therapy” and “retail therapy” that go hand and hand. It doesn’t matter if I say this is not one of those “money spending visits”. She’ll just say okay – and the next thing you know we’ll be at the Houston Galleria buying stuff. That’s just how it goes.
We both have a passion for movies! My visit to Houston will center around what’s playing at the theater and then we’ll go to a Red Box and pick up several new releases because she doesn’t have cable. Her excuse is that all of those cable channels take her away from doing important things. My thought is, how can you live without cable? We’ll go back and forth on that for a while before deciding on which movies to watch.
It’s a familiar story but sadly reality sets in and I realize that the horrible dream is not at all a dream. And even though I try to remember the good times – they are only memories and do little to fill the empty space.
I am writing this story on Mother’s Day and yes, I’m especially emotional today. Brandi called a few minutes ago. She and Queah go way back to when they were little girls. They reconnected a few years ago thanks to Facebook and Brandi is one of the people Queah would talk to on the phone in the middle of night when the pain from cancer and all the medication kept her awake. They would talk about the past, the present and hopes for the future. Brandi thinks of me often and calls to check on me and didn’t want this day to pass without calling. There are times I wish I could just say “thanks for calling, I’m so glad you thought of me”. However, many times I find myself in a puddle of tears by the end of the conversation and a little embarrassed that I cried so much. During this call, for a brief moment I believed if Brandi and I tried hard enough we could wish Queah back to life. Yes, it’s been over a year and as much as I try not to give in, my mind still takes me back to that place – a place where I believe she’s coming back. They call that “place” denial. Through my tears I did tell Brandi there must have been something that went incredibly wrong with the Universe that would allow something so unthinkable to happen. Over the last year I’ve said over and over to anyone who’d listen “how could something so horrible happen?”. Even though they try no one seems to have a satisfactory answer to that question. I hope the Universe knows it took away the one person who really mattered to me.
Through all of this, I’ve come to believe the reason Queah is gone – instead of me – is there’s something left here on this earth that I must do. It is something unfinished, something undone and it must be pretty darn important. If only I knew what it was. I do have many things that I want to do – many things that I need to do – and some things I must do so I better get busy. Creating this blog is one of them and I’m so glad you took the time to read it. So perhaps somewhere in completing some of these things that I want, need and must do – I will accomplish the important thing that I am left here to do.
A Trip Of A Lifetime
For most of us, a trip to Australia is a trip of a lifetime. Too bad when I went there I couldn’t enjoy it.
Around October of last year my grief from the loss of my daughter Queah (Quaya) got worse. I needed to get away for the holidays so my daughter’s Australian friend Phil suggested I come there. At first I said no because I thought it would be too painful because Queah loved that city and spoke of it often. I eventually figured let’s not be foolish – just go. However, much of my decision hinged on whether I could get up to wine country and visit Iron Gate Estate, a little winery she fell in love with. Phil said yes plus he promised to take me to other places she visited.
On the day I arrived in Sydney, I remember waiting for Phil to pick me up at the airport and take me to my hotel. As I waited I felt so sad, so empty. It was a summer morning, the air was crisp and the Australian landscape was green with vibrant color bursts of flowers. On the way to the hotel we stopped at little cafe on the ocean for breakfast. I love cappuccino and it was the best I ever tasted but it did little to change my mood. Phil and his family knew I was grieving so they kept me busy during the trip and since they’re native Aussies I got a chance to see the city from a perspective most tourist do not. I had dinners in many restaurants but the better ones were off the beaten path where the food puts those fancy places to shame. The best dinner came from Monica’s kitchen – Phil’s mom. She cooked for her mom, fiancee, her sons, their families and me. They were all so excited to have this American in their home. I put on a good front but deep down I was still so very sad.
Midway through the vacation, we drove about 2 and half hours outside of Sydney to wine country. Finally it was the day I’d been waiting for. When we arrived I could see why Queah loved it there and I began to feel a connection to her. The building had a Spanish-style architecture which was her favorite. The rows of grapevines were neatly and clearly separated and appeared to reach into infinity. This is the part where I eagerly taste-tested every wine they had to offer. My daughter always told me that I had an unsophisticated wine pallet, so this was an opportunity to educated myself – and what better place than one of her favorite places in the world. They guy behind the counter explained in detail how the wines were made. Out of nowhere a guy walked up and asked “is everything was okay”? I replied yes and said “are you the owner”? He said yes and introduced himself as Roger. This was a turning point in the vacation because at no time during this trip did I mention my daughter to anyone outside of the people who knew her, but I immediately began telling Roger about Queah and how she was once there. He listened and wanted to know when she died. I told him last March and then came words I will never forget – “I know what you’re going through. My son, Miles died in January.” I was a little stunned but eventually summed it up to coincidence.
On the last day of the trip I went to the Sydney Opera House. It’s the beautifully odd shaped building on Sydney Harbor. Queah had many pictures taken from there. I was lucky enough to go on a tour of the facility where I had a brief encounter with a couple named Jon and Kathy. They were from the states but currently live in Australia. When the tour ended we went our separate ways. Strangely, we kept bumping in to each other afterward. By the third or fourth time of bumping in to them I decided to tell them why I was at the Opera House and it’s connection to my daughter. Like Roger, they wanted to know when she died – and like Roger they said… “we know what you’re going through. Our son Mat died”.
Coincidence? Maybe. Fate? I’d say so. During the plane ride home it became crystal clear to me that death is not the end. I don’t know for sure what happens after death since it hasn’t happened to me yet, but I do believe Queah, Miles and Mat have met and they’re watching over their parents. Just thinking about it makes me feel a lot better.
I keep in touch with Roger, Jon and Kathy through emails and phone calls. We’ve become a long distance support group. I’ve been invited back to Australia and I plan to go. My grief prevented me from thoroughly enjoying Australia but I don’t believe that will happen next time. In fact, I think I’ll take many different trips to many different places because who knows who Queah will have arranged for me to meet when I get there!