Our Little Buddy, Kyle. Rest in Peace

Tonight, Sierra saw something on her facebook page. One of her friends Liam was talking about how he missed his brother Kyle. "Mama? Does he have another brother named Kyle, or is he talking about Kyle Kyle??" I ran over to look at her screen and froze when I saw his words. Something something Kyle died in his sleep.. were the only things I got out of it. I immediatly picked up mu cell phone.

I called all the numbers I had for Kyles mother, my friend Heather and left a voicemail on one, and talked to her father on the other number. He said Heather wasn't doing well at all. I've reached out to all our mutual friends for support, and thats all I can do. ... which sucks. Its not good enough. When all I can do is sit here.. it doesn't feel like enough.

We babysat him all summer. We were going to this past summer, but they moved to Kennebunkport and he went to summer school instead. But the summer before he was with us nearly every day from morning til night. It was hard dealing with 6 kids, not to mention that him and Ivy clashed big time sometimes! But he was so funny and made us laugh all the time. He never let anything slow him down and he was always willing to try no matter what. He overcame quite a bit while he was here. I watched him learn new things and change.

I have so many videos from that summer. I suppose I should put them on DVD. When the time is right, Heather will want to have as many memories as she can. I certainly took a lot of pictures and videos. I took a picture of them a week ago. Halloween night. It hasn't even been uploaded from the camera yet....

Things change too fast for me..
I've struggled a lot with letting go of the past. Seeing friends, like SOTM people.. seeing them change and leave.. watching us go our separate ways. So many break ups, divorce, changes, and death. ... the good times as a group are gone. The bonds and friendships have changed. For good. You can't go backwards.
two deaths in one year is too much for me. I can't begin to imagine how Heather feels. I don't. I can't. It hurts too much already. :(

Kyle was Ivy's only real friend. The only birthday party she'd been to. The only person that has been in her life since she was born. The only other person she really connected with. She knew he had autism and some of the same problems she did. ... how do you explain death to a child that has a hard time grasping things like that? How do you even begin to tell them? Should I just not? Its going to cause so much anxiety for her. Ugh.

I'm rambling. Its past my bedtime and I know you're in bed. .. I just needed to vent. I'm sorry. I shouldn't be up at 1am crying. I lit my candles, and I sent out my calls for help and support. There is nothing left for me to do, and yet I feel so helpless. I wish there was something more I could do.


I'm going upstairs to kiss my babies, and snuggle in between two of them and fall asleep. ♥

Kyle loved Spongebob. He loved to collect stuffies from popular Disney movies. Kyle also had
autism. He was so full of life and happy all the time. I just don't understand. Why Kyle? Why Avis? Why Grammy? Why Mom?

I'm not sure I will ever understand.

The Post-poned post

Isn't it funny how a simple phone call can change things sometimes?

I've struggled with the idea and implementation of anonymity on the internet for years. I'm not sure when it started to matter to me. Probably the first time I was judged for something, and the consequence was astronomically huge. Never mind that the judgment was erroneous. That didn't matter. What mattered then and now, is that I was changed. I learned quickly that being myself wasn't acceptable. So I vacillate between hiding and being completely public. Some days my Twitter time line is public, and other days I get scared and turn everything private. They say that everything that gets put on the internet is there to stay, and that sort of permanency alone is scary.

I'm not good at remaining anonymous. Maybe its the autism. Maybe its my inability to lie about things that are important, or understand why someone would act malicious because of something I wrote. Its probably because I cannot wrap my brain around some things. Why can I look up the most heinous things online that others have written, sometimes depicting death, torture, rape, you name it and its out there... and yet I feel scared posting about my childrens day, or what I had for dinner last night.

It all comes down to shame and the feelings of guilt it conjures up. Inappropriately placed shame. Why is it there? I don't know! I'd like to know. Probably some psycho mumbo-jumbo about being devalued and emotionally abused or neglected. I only know how it makes me feel. I shouldn't get scared and filled with paranoia and anxiety at the smallest thing. I shouldn't be worried that something I say will cause the DEA to knock on my door and destroy my empire built on drug money from the meth labs in my kitchen, or worry that the neighbors dog is secretly a police dog and when I go to check the mail the dog will be able to sniff out the marijuana that's in my pocket. Especially considering I don't smoke marijuana, there isn't any in my pocket, and I'm pretty sure the drug dealers in the neighborhood don't have an ex police dog. To be honest, a dog has never approached me since I've been living here. As you can see, there is no reason for any of those things to be in my head, let alone be something thats causing anxiety.