Unending Pain Part Two

The unending pain that I felt after losing my daughter, never seemed to offer me a light at the end of the tunnel. I had made all the necessary calls the day I held her for the last time. I notified friends, family, my job, and my daughter's school. Our family was few at this point in my life, but they were all shocked and swearing to be there for whatever I needed. What I needed though, they could never give me. What I needed was my daughter back and alive. That is what I needed and wanted and nobody could give me that.

Once I notified her school, they offered their support wholeheartedly. They had a special ceremony for her that Friday night at the school grounds for anyone who needed to offer prayers and try to grasp what had occurred as a whole. Any life lost due to death affects so many people. It is better to heal as a whole with support than alone, at least that's what I am told.

I attended the school ceremony to honor my daughter. It was a beautiful show of love and respect that so many had for her. She would have loved to have known how many people were going to miss her. The teachers gave me a neat and tidy box full of all her belongings that were left at the school. Inside the box was also cards and notes of condolences from students and teachers. I have never been able to go through this box and I never will.

Going to the funeral home was the hardest thing I had done since the morning I had found her body. The workers there were so kind and understanding and helped me through the entire process. I ended my decision with no cremation, but the most beautiful casket they offered me. It had a white exterior with golden handles on it. The inside, where her body would sleep for eternity, was lined in a satin pastel pink with a matching pillow where her head would lay.

I chose to have her service at the funeral home since I wanted both our pastor and my father to speak. The service I was told was beautiful. Honestly, I can't even recall any of it. I was engulfed in such a painful haze, having that out of body experience all over again. They say that after the service there was not a dry eye on anybody. I was told that the flowers were in such a great abundance they wouldn't all fit in the room where she lay.

Family, friends and even co-workers came to my home with food and the offer of their time to help with whatever they could. There is nothing they could do for me though. I had shut the door to my daughter's bedroom and wouldn't allow anyone in there. I thanked everyone for their food and kindness in wanting to comfort me. I ended up sending all of them away. The only thing I wanted was to have my daughter back. Nobody could bring her back to me, so I saw no point in any company. I just wanted to be left alone and mourn in peace.

I tried going into her room once, but opening her door was as far as I could get. It was as if the last place she was alive had become a sacred place to me. I know that is just a comfort tool I am using, nothing is sacred about her room now or will there ever be. It is actually an evil place that sucked her life from me, her last breath, nothing holy or sacred about that.

I tried going back to work. I always loved my job, the people that I worked with were the good kind. There was no gossip mill and nothing but a feeling of a loving family. The personal success I had achieved in moving up the corporate ladder was not even enough to get me to go. That self-satisfying feeling my job always gave me just wasn't in me anymore. I stopped going to work, I really saw no point in pretending that I was happy. I was always a happy person, but when she died, so did my happiness.

I stayed at home mostly, not really doing anything of importance. Without my daughter, I just could not muster any reason to go on. I had stopped eating altogether. I did try a couple times, but I could not enjoy it. If I swallowed any food I just threw it up anyway. I was not answering the constantly ringing phone and eventually, I just turned it off. At times there would be people ringing my doorbell or knocking rather loudly, but I never answered. I had no desire to see anyone and no longer had the energy or joy of spending time with people.

When my daughter died I believe she killed us both. I will never know why she took her own life, but if she was feeling like I am now, I understand the deep need to stop the pain.

I went up the staircase and headed towards her room. I put my hand on the cold doorknob and pushed it open. It was dark and dusty and the sadness seemed to overwhelm me. Weakened from my lack of energy, I fell to the floor. Minutes ticked by into hours and I started to crawl my way towards her bed. The pain engulfed me in that instant. It was as if I was drowning under water and could not get any air into my lungs.

I had died of a heart attack on her bedroom floor. I just could not find a reason to live without her.