Right now, I feel as if I am participating in the longest game of Limbo ever as I wait for my daughter's murder trial to begin.
The court hearings after her death came rapidly. At the time, I thought the monthly court appearances were hard. I've found that the long waits and delays we've had since last October are worse. At least then we were steadily moving forward.
Now all I can do is hurry up and wait...watch the limbo bar slowly lower and dread the moment when I fall. Because I will fall, there is no doubt about that. The best I can do is pick myself up gracefully after I do. Dreading the trial and trying to mentally prepare myself for it are the only things on my to do list. It's funny, I have wanted this trial for two years and now that it's about to start, all I can think about is how to keep myself together while going through it.
If only there were a manual...maybe titled, "How Not To Lose Your Shit As You Listen To the Account Of Your Child's Death."
Every night, I go to bed repeating to myself, "Tomorrow will be a better day." Sometimes it is, more often than not, in these last few weeks, it's not. I am my own worst enemy right now. Imagining the worst every second of every day.
Since my Granny's death, seventeen years ago, I have often longed for her wisdom, her advice on how to cope with life's challenges. Sometimes when I feel like I am falling apart, she comes to me while I'm sleeping and somehow redirects me. These dreams are priceless to me and when I have them, I try to put her counsel to good use.
I am not a patient person. That has been one of the hardest things to deal with in regards to this trial. I want instant gratification. Although I was warned from the beginning that this would be a long process, I am not good at waiting.
We were given a trial date of September 11, 2017 that has now been pushed back to September 18th. One week isn't a long time except it is seven more days of no closure for me.
The depression I've felt since Noelle's death comes in cycles. Sometimes around holidays or special events...sometimes out of the blue. The cycle starts and I am no longer "Me". I withdraw, I can't get out of bed, I cry. After the sadness has ran its course (days if I'm lucky, weeks if I'm not), I'm back to "OK".
The cycle that started with the new trial dated ended with a dream from my Granny. I was stranded without a vehicle in a shopping center, as I walked outside to the parking lot, my Granny was parked at the curb. I got in the car only to find that she didn't have a key. "Don't worry," she told me. "If I turn the wheel just like this, the car will move." As she turned the wheel from left to right, the car started inching forward. We began to coast down the road. We had no way to accelerate since the engine wasn't actually running. I became frustrated and told her, "This isn't going to work. We will never get there!"
"Yes, we will. We will just get there slowly," was her response.
I woke with that promise echoing from my brain and decided that I will "coast" through the rest of this journey...slowly but surely.
Thank you all for following me throughout this nightmare. I can't even put into words how grateful I am for your support and knowing that you are "coasting" with me.