Not everyone makes it

 

Today, there was a huge realization and sadness for me.  I woke up to the news that Virginia Giuffre, who was victimized by Jeffrey Epstein and Prince Edward, had committed suicide. I read the news and was heartbroken; it reminded me that the damage is done, and recovery often can take a lifetime.  She stood up for herself, she used her voice, she made a difference, and yet she ended her own life.  Of course, there may have been a thousand other things going on, and there are things that we don't know about her life. 

For me today, it was just a different kind of sadness because not everyone who fights or strives to do the right thing comes out on top. I often get more than frustrated with myself, that I am still so affected by what happened to me. I can acknowledge that I have come a really long way, but there are times when I am so tired of the hurt, the pain, the replaying of the past, the pictures, and the way that I am still so affected. I still have moments where I am thrown back to that time when I was a terrified 13-year-old who would have done anything to survive. I hate the dreams that make me feel I was raped yesterday, and I hate the memories that I see every detail of.  I replay what people said to me, and it still breaks my heart every single time. I question myself and wonder if it was really that bad.  Was I making a mountain out of a molehill?  Was I really that innocent?  I repeatedly play people's words in my mind, and think, did I really mean that little? 

In my heart, deep down, I feel that I am a survivor. I am not, nor have I ever been, a victim. I have fought my entire life. I always roll with the punches and keep going. For my healing, things have gotten piled and piled, and life happens, and more gets piled, and I am forever and always trying to dig myself out.  I have done the hard work, and there is less digging. The fact is, digging is digging, and sometimes, I just need a break. I look at Virginia, her strength, courage, and willingness to do the hard and right things; she is a light that the world no longer has, and I am heartbroken.  What made us so different? Why do I keep fighting?  Why did she decide she could not fight anymore? I know I will never stop fighting; I have to fight for the girl I was at 13. That girl who so badly wanted to be loved and belong.  I will forever fight for her, and someday we will be arm in arm, fighting together, ensuring that those who come after us know that life can be better.  We will keep fighting until each girl, boy, woman, and man can stand in their truth and be proud of themselves for surviving. 

Virginia's death is a reminder that there were times I could have made a different choice, even on the days when I didn't want to go on, there was something that kept me going. There will always be something to keep me going: my children, my granddaughter, and the clients I will have in the future. Spunky will keep me going because she deserves so much more than she ever got in this life.  Together, these things keep me fighting. To make a difference, the drive and passion that I have are something that I just can't control. There is a hole in my heart, but fighting fills that hole, knowing I can make a difference for others. Virginia, I want to give you this huge hug and make it better, but I can't do that. So I will keep fighting for you and for all of us, until the world is a much safer place for all of us. 

I heart your heart.  

Where to begin

 

Today was the first day since last Thursday that the tears slowed down. Today, I am overwhelmed and heartbroken. I am terrified to sit and start writing because I fear the tears will begin again. Life has been a whirlwind since last week, and I need some kind of playbook, some direction, and some answers for what I am supposed to do. I am so tired of being left out, left behind, and never considered. 

I knew that something wasn't right when the baby bassinet showed up, but I didn't get an answer. Then, not coming home for two straight days and seeing that Vincent was at the hospital. Vincent finally came home Thursday evening, and he came and sat on the couch in the library, Something he never does. I asked him what was going on, but he said nothing. I told him how much I loved him, but he just shook his head, saying nothing. He could not speak the words. I asked him, Vincent, are you a dad? and he said yes and started crying. There were so many things running through my head. I wanted to know everything: was it a boy or a girl, what her name was, and when she was born. I wanted all the details. She was born on Tuesday, March 26, at 12:22, weighing 6'4 and 18 inches long. Her name was Amelia May Ann Callahan. I was a grandmother and had already missed out on celebrating her first moments. My heart was everywhere and nowhere and bursting all in the same second. I wanted to understand why Vincent never told me, never let me in on this part of his life. In those seconds, I was just literally crushed.  I was a grandmother and didn't even know it. I missed gender reveals, baby showers, and all the things that I would have been so excited to be a part of.  I missed it all. I wanted to know when I could meet her.  So I went and picked Mariska up at work, and Vincent took a shower and got more clothes.  I followed him there; she literally lives not even 5 minutes away. 

I went to pick Mariska up at work, and we got home, waiting for Vincent to be ready. There were so many thoughts, and the weight in the room was great. I would be meeting my granddaughter for the first time. I was a nervous wreck, and I just could not get there fast enough. I walked in, and her dad answered the door. I said hello, gave him a hug, saw her mom, and gave her a hug. And there they were sitting in the recliner. My grandaughter Amelia May-Anne.  She was everything perfect. She had Vincent's nose. Of course, there were so many tears. I had only met Shelbi one other time, when we went out to dinner. I told her parents that I didn't know.  I kept saying that over and over; I just didn't know. Shelbi offered me to hold her right away, and I was more than grateful.  I cried, and I held her, pouring my heart into her.  I couldn't even sit down; I just stood there looking at every little detail, taking all of her in.  

Then I asked Shelbi's mom if I could see her first pictures, and she pulled out her phone and scrolled through screen after screen of pictures, and my heart broke. I was thinking about all the things that I didn't get the chance to be involved in. I was already more in love with Ms.Amelia and was heartbroken that I never got to celebrate her. I didn't even know about her until a few hours ago. I walked into that house and felt like such an outsider.  Even Mariska had known for months, since October.  Her Grandfather saw her in Walmart and asked why she wasn't at the gender reveal or the shower.  She had no idea what he was talking about until he said You know, for Vincent and Shelbi.  That is how Mariska found out. So many things that I missed out on, getting to be a part of.  Maternity pictures, showers, sonogram pictures, just all of it, that I never got to be a part of.  

I hold her, cherishing every second, and then that ache is still there. Of course, there are the thoughts that once outsider always an outsider. I am sure that all of her people have thoughts and wonder where his mom is and why she isn't around. Once again, so many much-missed opportunities that are just heartbreaking and seem to be a major theme in my life.  

I don't know how to do this and be a grandmother and see her and do all the things. There is no manual for this, and I so want there to be. I want to see her all the time and be so involved, and since they are living at her house, that is more than hard. I can not come over anytime that I want, I can not be there and love on her just because that I want to I have to ask and make sure that it is a good time, that it's ok, so many things to experience and I want to be be there for every single one of them. I have to figure out all of those pieces.   Vincent said in a text about coming over any time.  I texted back, letting him know that wasn't an option, I can't do that, I don't get to see her when I want.  I get to see her when it's ok with everyone around her. So much is so complicated.  

For me, a lot comes up, Vincent's genes and my assault, and do they know that? Have they ever asked him about his side?  What about Amelia? Will she ever ask what I will say? Will what happened to me ever be a topic? I just don't know. So many unknowns, and my heart is heavy and exhausted. 

He is such a good dad. He is so very gentle with her. He holds her and gets close to her little face. He is gentle with her socks, diapers, and everything little. How he holds her, the kindness- pretty amazing to watch. 

So many things to figure out. So much to learn about how all of this is going to work. I want to be there all the time, and that just isn't an option for me, so I am there every second that I can, that he wants me, that he invites me. I love her with my whole heart, with all that I am from the second that I found out. Ms.Amelia ,there are so many things that I can't wait to do with you. I already have great plans for her room, for pictures for a bed, I have books, and animals and so many amazing beautiful things that I so look forward to sharing with her. 

Mariska is awesome with her, I am in awe watching how she speaks to her, how they interact. She loves her with her whole heart.  She is going to be the most amazing aunt ! 

Lots of new things, so many things to figure out and find meaning for.  It has only been two weeks, and it's still all sinking in. I hope her mom Kayla and I can do lunch; I feel like there are so many things to talk about. Since Shelbi is her daughter, I feel like so much rests on her little did she know, I am more than happy to help carry the load. I hope in time we can get to know each other better. Her first texts were amazing and welcoming, telling me I am a part of the family. That is hard to hear. I want to believe it, but only time will tell.  I am not a part of the family; I am not one of their people. I want to jump all in, believing it, but I am the one that will be left alone, and I can't do that.  I have to see what happens as time goes on and relationships are built. 

I am proud of Vincent and love Amelai more than words. There are so many things that can't even fit in the post. Some things just can't be spoken. Amelia, I heart your heart. Vincent, you mean the world to me. Shelbi, I hope you can let me in and be the grandmother that I so long to be. 

I heart your heart. Here's the very first picture I took the night that I met her. 

My whole heart