The Trauma We Carry

Archive 12/21/19

Raising children inside trauma and loss is super hard and dynamic. I have been raising my step children inside the loss of the Granite Mountain Hotshots for nearly five years. Their dad is a first responder who was on the Yarnell Hill Fire, who has struggled with the loss of our 19, too.

At first, the children were too young to really understand my loss. But they had already gone through their own. The loss of their parent’s marriage was really hard for them and my husband (boyfriend at the time) was grieving that loss, too. When he and I found ourselves in a relationship, we brought all of our sadness, pain, and grief with us. It was so very messy, as you can imagine.

As the children grew, we realized that we had to begin talking openly about the Granite Mountain Hotshots and Eric. They had witnessed me crying a lot, had seen their dad and me talking through some heavy stuff, and it was time to begin letting them into the loss. Only the Brave was in production and he and I were traveling back and forth to Santa Fe, and the kids were asking questions, trying to figure out our lives. It was a confusing time for me, seeing all the actors bring our loved ones to life, it was both overwhelming and beautiful. Watching Jennifer Connelly lay the white horse down just minutes after she and I met for the first time, seeing myself in her. There was so much for me to sort through. None of that was easy. And I didn’t know how to talk about any of it with folks who were not in my closest circle. I had to fragment my life. I was closed off and hiding out at home when in Prescott, shut in and full of sorrow. And then traveling to Santa Fe and watching Eric come alive through Josh. All the while trying to figure out how to be present for two amazing, young, super fun kids.

Though the kids knew I had been married to a man named Eric, they were too young to understand death. I took them to the cemetery and we walked around the memorial. I introduced them to all of our fallen 19. Our oldest child was struck by seeing my image on Eric’s head stone. It brought it to life, it made it real. All the tears I had shed suddenly made sense. As we got back in the car and began driving away, my children said goodbye to Eric and promised him we would come back soon. It was an amazing moment, full of so much love and connection.

In our world, in our family, Eric is very present. My children think of him as their other dad and he brings so much comfort to them both. Our youngest wants to be a first responder and is in awe of Eric and hotshots and smokejumpers. Drawings of tankers cover our fridge. The kids talk about him, and ask me questions. There is no fragmentation, it all runs together. My husband asks me questions, too. He wants to know everything about Eric and I want to share him with my family. It’s easier and way less painful when my life flows together.

I still really can’t talk about the movie, or about the people in the movie. I can write about it in small pieces like this. I can share parts of that time with others, but there are layers to sort through. I am so grateful the movie was made. Our kids have seen it. Our oldest cried so hard when it was over, so afraid of what it all meant for our family. So sad for me. Our youngest has seen it to almost the end. The ending would be too hard right now. They live it with me every day. Eventually we will watch it to the end, as a family. My husband and I cry every time we see it. In fact, the first time we saw the movie all the way through, he was sobbing next to me, with his arm around my shoulders. He feels so bad for me, for all the families for having to endure such tragedy. Just a few days ago, he told me that once again. Having his support is everything to me. Being able to talk about Eric, to continue loving him openly is so healing. Between the drawings of tankers on the fridge are photographs of Eric and I wear both of my wedding bands on my ring finger. Both my husbands are extraordinary humans. I love them both so very much.

As our children grow and mature, I see compassion emanating from them. It’s true and centered. Both our kids are strong in who they are, they have self confidence. They love our family, they want to be with us. There are no questions off the table. I see who they are and I see resilience. As a family, we have learned how to exist with loss, how grief is not a period of time, but a byproduct of love, how important it is to live whole, not fragmented, and how valuable it is to share feelings, to exist how we are. Our kids bring me so much joy, and hearing their giggles fills me up. Through them I have learned how to slow down, how to be present, how mistakes are really okay as long as we learn from them. Loss is inevitable, it’s part of the human experience. My loss has made me stronger. My loss has made me kinder. I have learned that it’s okay not to be okay. I have learned not to cover up my pain, but to expose it to the light. I have learned that loving is the best remedy.

💜19