Goodbye 2011
Category: Life

Since my last blog in September, all of Lady's puppies have found good new homes.  As I mentioned previously, we kept one (Bella - Rebecca and Kira are both Twilight fans), my parents took one (Baxter), and the other four were sold on-line.  It is interesting to see the developmental and personality differences between Bella and Baxter when they get together for their weekly visits.  Of course, all siblings are different and unique, regardless of
whether they are  human (Kira, Lauren and Darrel varied in staggering amounts right from the beginning; and the girls still do now) or animal.  We are still in contact with one to the people who bought a  pup, who strangely enough has discovered that a friend of her sister also  purchased a dog from us!  The girls enjoy now being able to keep tabs on 4 of  the 6 pups from Darrel's pup.

There was a bit of a diversion for Lauren and myself on September 9th, as we went down to a Blue Jays game in Toronto with a bus load of co-workers.  This was her first time to the Rogers Centre/Skydome, and she really had a good time with the experience (though the Jays lost 2-0 to Baltimore).  It seemed odd, and somehow wrong doing something fun on the 4th anniversary of his death, but it  also felt right to be sharing a new adventure with my daughter. Darrel only got a chance to play soccer for one year before being diagnosed with
neuroblastoma, so I'm not sure if he would have been much of a baseball fan (nor get a chance to do the stereotypical "Playing Catch With Dad" that many of us had growing  up).  Perhaps he was there with us, as a photo taken of Lauren and I had an Orb  right beside us. I'm still not sure what to make of the so-called Orbs being spirits, yet it surprising when and what pictures they seem to appear in from time to time (but that's a whole other blog).

On October 23rd, the girls and I finally got down to Canada's Wonderland.  We had already purchased tickets (caring for the puppies was a full time job for most of the summer), and this was the second to last weekend the Park was going  to be open for the season.  At least by going then, the line-ups were much shorter (but it was of course colder, and the water attractions were all closed), and we were able to do the famed "Halloween Haunt" (which was Spooktacular!!).  Each visit there now reminds me of Mother's Day 2007, when our entire extended family went to be with Darrel.  There were quite a few ups and  downs on that day, but it went and ended well for the most part.  While Wonderland changes in varying degrees each year, some things do stay the same.  Rides like 'The Fly' and 'Swings of the Century' bring back memories of Darrel and his unique take on things.  Places like an ordinary bench, that to everyone else are insignificant, hold a meaning to me, and rare trips like that to 
Wonderland stir constant flashbacks...some good, others not so pleasant.  
 
As 2011 draws to an end, it is time once again to give thanks to my family, friends, and all of you who have visited and supported Darrel's Playground this year.  While raising awareness for childhood cancer can be emotionally draining and time consuming, together, we strides we make towards a cure are more than worth it!!  Here are some of the highlights from this year:

May 28: Participated in the Mitchell Fraser Memorial Slo Pitch Tournament.  It was a great day and event, raising $20,592.40 for neuroblastoma research at the Hospital for Sick Children in Toronto (with a ten year total of $173,600). 
 
June 17-18: Team Darrel took part in Fergus Relay for Life, raising $2800 for the Canadian Cancer Society (with our four year total of $11,100).

July: Launched the official www.darrelsplayground.com and Twitter account www.twitter.com/DRsPlayground to go along with the  pre-existing Facebook group http://www.facebook.com/groups/19938025448/ .  With all the  problems going on at MySpace, the original Playground account was closed as well.

October:  Darrel is/was one of the children featured on Debbie Calhoun Ware's Childhood Cancer Awareness Mobile in Dublin, Georgia.  Unfortunately, this is a Work In Progress, and more names are added almost every week..

October 29:   Supported Super Bub's Super Heroes in the Ultimate Hike in Michigan for CureSearch.
 
November 19: Darrel was included on 'Kids Get Cancer Too' float in the Santa Claus Parade in Bowmanville. Thanks to Wendy Payne Tenhunen for putting this together.

December: Darrel is one of 96 children featured in the Team Unite 2012 Calendar in support of CureSearch.  Thanks to Heide Randall to including him.

http://www.cafepress.com/teamunite.412703703 
 
A special thanks needs to go out to Sherry Marsh Blevins for creating several graphics/images in honour and memory of Darrel.  This is greatly appreciated!!

I'd like to wish you all a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.  I am very thankful for your continued interest and support of the Playground and my family.

(P.S. I haven't updated on Darrel's watch for a while, but the battery is still going strong since it was last replaced 5 years ago.  The alarm still goes  off to remind Darrel when Pokemon {at the time} would start {though now it is an hour earlier with Daylight Savings Time}.  It still brings a smile to my face  {on most days} to hear the noise and remember who/what/where/ and why it represents.)

A Bereaved Parent’s Wish List

I wish my child hadn’t died. I wish I had my child back.

I wish you wouldn’t be afraid to speak my child’s name. My child
lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that my 
child was important to you also.

If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child, I wish you
knew that it isn’t because you have hurt me. 
My child’s death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child
and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.

Being a  bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn’t
shy away from me. I  need you now more than ever.

I need diversions, so I do want to hear  about you, but I also want
you to hear about me. I might be sad and I might  cry, but I wish you
would let me talk about my child; my favourite topic of the day.

I know that you think of and pray for me often. I also know that  my
child’s death pains you too. I wish you would let me know these things
through a phone call, a card or note, or a real big hug.

I wish  you wouldn’t expect my grief to be over. The months/years
are traumatic for me, but I wish you could understand that my grief
will never be over. I will  suffer the death of my child until the day I die.

I am working hard in my  recovery, but I wish you could
understandthat I will never fully recover. I  will always miss my child and
I will always grieve that my child is  gone.

I wish you wouldn’t expect me “not to think about it” or “be  happy”.
Neither will happen for a very long time, so don’t frustrate  yourself.

I don’t want to have a “pity party”, but I do wish you would  let me grieve. I must hurt
before I can heal.

I wish you understood how  my life has shattered. I know it is
miserable for you to be around me when  I’m feeling miserable. Please
be as patient with me as I am with  you.

When I say, “I’m doing okay”, I wish you could understand that I  don’t “feel” okay
and that I struggle daily.

I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I’m having are very
normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness 
are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I’m quiet and withdrawn 
or irritable and cranky.

Your advice to “take it one day at a time” is excellent advice.
However, a day is too much and too fast for me right
now. I wish you could understand that I’m doing good to handle
an hour at a time.

Please excuse me if I seem rude, it’s certainly not my intent.
Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. 
When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend 
time alone.

I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died,
a big part of me died too. I am not the same person I was before 
my child died and I will never be that person ever again.

I wish my child hadn’t died. I wish I had my child back.

From: Grieving Mothers