Empty

As full as my heart and my life are, our family has recently suffered a loss that has just left me. . . well, empty. Not completely empty, but there's definitely a hole there. As an only child, my cousins are my siblings. We grew up together, graduated together, partied together - I was even the Maid of Honor in one cousin's wedding. The first time I ever got drunk was with a cousin. The first time I ever got drunk enough to puke and pass out was with that same cousin.

My cousin C had a baby last week. Before Baby McK was born, they knew she would have many, many issues, some of which were not survivable. They knew that she had a fractured leg. They knew that she suffered from defects that are unheard of in most parts of the world. They knew she was likely a dwarf. But when Baby McK lived for an hour or so and went home to be with Jesus so quickly after she arrived, it just left me empty.

I think most of the problem is that C, B, and McK are in Alaska. I haven't seen C since before she knew she was pregnant. Traveling to Alaska isn't something one does on a whim. It's something that requires months of planning, preparation, and saving. Something that we're in no position to do right now, regardless of how dire the circumstances. I want more than anything to hug C and let her cry her eyes out. I want to tuck her into bed and tell B to go run until he can't feel his legs - to find some sort of release he can't find while caring for his broken and battered wife. I want to make breakfast, lunch, and dinner; do their laundry; rock T to sleep while C&B go away for an hour or two. I want to help.

Not being able to has not only left me empty, it's left me drained. It took me several days and many sleepless nights to put it all together, but my shortcoming has entered my dreams. The last 10 days or so, I've had wild, bizarre, and troublesome dreams. Today I realized that the theme of all of these dreams is helplessness. Whether I'm watching a bear maul a dog or trying to save the entire planet, I'm completely unable to help. I see the problem. I know the answer. And I can do nothing to change it.

Now that I've finally put my finger on it what's causing the dreams, hopefully they'll phase themselves out of my nighttime routine. Now that I'm able to recognize my guilt, frustration, and sadness about the situation, perhaps it will resolve itself. For now, I'm going to soak in a bubble bath surrounded by candles and classical music. For now, I'm going to think happy thoughts and try to envision paradise in my mind's eye before I drift off to Nod. And if that doesn't work? I guess I'll move on to Tylenol PM and a shot of warm milk. Heaven help me, because Lord knows I can't.