Grieving the Loss of "Normal"

I know that I write a lot on this blog about “normal.” It must seem strange because I know that normal doesn’t actually exist. Most of the people that I look at and think they have a normal family and a normal life probably don’t feel the same about their own lives. But I think we also have to admit that there are a lot of families out there whose lives fall much closer to normal than mine. I don’t think it’s possible to feel further from normal than I do right now.

It’s hard for me to be around other people’s normal. I see them playing with their kids, chasing them around, taking family pictures, and it just reminds me how far my life is from that normal. I find myself wishing that things had turned out differently, and I could be a part of that normal crowd. Instead, I’m the person standing there uncomfortable and trying not to cry, for seemingly no reason.

I thought about this a lot yesterday. We were at a charity walk/run for some family friends. We were happy to be there to support them and their son. It was a nice morning with friends. It wasn’t until later in the day that I realized how affected I was by my morning. And it became a chain reaction as I dug deeper to understand what was really bothering me.

At the surface, it’s just hard for me to be around happy family times. I wish it wasn’t like that, because it makes me feel like a pretty selfish person. But it’s no secret that Gordon and I are fighting a very long and very difficult battle to try to get that happy family. It’s not a fight we have with each other, but with a universe that seems hell bent on making this as difficult as possible, and even potentially impossible. It is extremely difficult to be around something that you want so desperately, but is always out of reach.

So, that starts the sadness, and some guilt that I can’t just be happy for my friends who have something that I know is so precious. Then comes the wishing. I wish our lives could be normal like that. I wish that things went the way they are supposed to, and we could enjoy other’s happy family time because we knew it ourselves. Wishing for chasing kids around, comforting a fussy child, and taking family pictures that were complete with our whole family. It’s another layer of sadness when you realize that this can never be for our family. No matter what our future holds, we’ll never have that kind of normal.

And then the real sadness and guilt come. Because in wishing for this normal, it feels like I am wishing Vivienne away. In order for me to wish for that normal, it feels like I have to wish that Vivienne never happened. I understand that this isn’t actually the case – I can just wish that she never died (a lot of good that does me), but it feels more like I would need to deny her to have this type of normalcy that I wish for. There are no words that can describe the emotion I feel when I think about this. Once I had this realization yesterday, I spent the rest of the day just telling myself to breathe, because that alone felt impossible to me.

In the end, I know that I can’t change where we are. And I would never, ever wish Vivienne away. So I have to accept that this “normal” that other people get will never be for my family. And that becomes yet another loss to grieve.