Telling guilt

During our last grief support group, we were asked if we could say something to our guilt what would we say.  I couldn't really think of my answer on the spot because so many thoughts flooded my mind like they were part of some giant tsunami.  Guilt in regards to Sonzee has so many dimensions that it is even hard to pinpoint which guilt I would be referencing.  Part of me wondered if this was one of those times that I was supposed to say what I thought someone wanted to hear?  I don't remember if I ever ended up giving an answer on Monday, but yesterday when I was watching the throwback video the question popped back into my mind.  My answer at that moment was I would tell guilt that I did one hell of a job making that little girl have the best life she could possibly have.  The words bring tears running down my cheeks because even though I know to my core that it's the truth, the shadow of guilt literally taunts me as it says "but it wasn't good enough".

There is always this constant war going on within my brain.  Guilt continuously pops into all of my memories and attempts to convince me that situations that were completely out of my control were somehow meant for me to control.  There are times when I almost cave into listening to it, but looking at the physical proof of pictures and videos brings me back to the truth.  I can see that we at least always tried our best.  At the very least we gave it our all, and we gave her whatever our best was for that day.  There is no such thing as being a perfect parent, and there were times I was exhausted and I am sure she could tell, but today I would still tell guilt it has no place.

The definition of guilt as a noun is the feeling of having done wrong or failed in an obligation.  I will forever wish her life was different.  I will forever have hoped that she didn't have to endure what she did for 4 years 11 months and 23 days.  I will forever dream that her siblings didn't have to learn about medical complexities, hospitalizations, childhood death, and grieving.  I will forever wonder if there was some way we could have made her life easier or better for her.  But overall, today, based on the evidence I continue to come across, I am confident we didn't fail her in any manner.  So today I will tell guilt,  "today is not your day, and tomorrow isn't looking good for you either."