Saying all the wrong things / Thank you for the Memory

There are certain things I'm told when someone finds out that my daughter has a chronic illness that drive me up the freakin' walls. I know people are trying to be reassuring/encouraging, but there are some things you just don't say. At least to me. Everyone is different, so I'll speak for myself only here.

Please understand that I'm currently going through the Anger part of the grief cycle. I can even identify now that my 'tone' is much harsher than it normally is. There might be strong language. You have been warned.

"You gotta stay positive."
             No, really? You don't think I know that? You don't think I fight to stay positive every day? You try facing this every day, and staying positive. You stupid fuckwit. Why in the world would you say this to someone? What is is going through your head? Think before you speak, dingdong. If you can't say something reasonable, just keep your mouth shut. Ninety-nine percent of the time, if I'm informing you that my daughter has a chronic, incurable, illness, I'm not telling you because I expect you to say something profound, or to say anything at all. I'm telling you because I felt you needed to know for some reason.

"Well, they are coming out with new treatments for stuff all the time."
          No shit, Sherlock! Thank you, Captain Obvious. Guess what? I knew that too. Chances are that I know more about the treatments in the pipeline than you do, because its my daughter. Idiot. Sometimes if something is blatantly obvious, you do NOT have to voice it. Trust me.

"Maybe she'll grow out of it."
          If its incurable, chances are she's not going to fucking "Grow out of it". Enough said.

What you CAN say:

"Dude, that freaking sucks!"
         This is one case where stating the obvious is okay. Its okay because you're not thinking too hard about it. Its okay because it does freaking suck, and sometimes just someone else acknowledging that is all that I need. When someone responds like this, my thoughts are along the lines of 'Thank you for understanding.'

"I'll pray for her."
        This one too is perfectly acceptable. That one phrase offers comfort, understanding, and is nice and simple. Again, its one where you're not thinking too hard about it. Do you see a pattern forming here? Your initial responses sometimes are the best.

"Sorry to hear that."
         Its simple, honest, and conveys understanding of the situation.


I honestly don't blame people for saying stupid things most of the time. I generally just kind of shrug an acceptance of their response when they say something I think is stupid. I just had to get my thoughts out here.
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A memory:

I'd went to the babysitter's house to pick her up, and was greeted in her usual way. Her voice declaring "MOMMY" as soon as I'd opened the door, and her hands extended straight up over her head with a following demand of "UP". It didn't matter to her that I was still a few feet from her. When I denied her, as I initially do because I'm trying to look through her backpack to see if there's anything I need to share with the babysitter, crocodile tears flowed down her chubby cheeks. As usual, I laughed at her because we go through this almost every day. She knows she's going to get picked up and given loves, but she wants it done on her terms and no one elses.

I chatted with the babysitter, picking Lily up after a minute, and sitting her on my lap. As usual she squirmed and wiggled, wanting to get down. In Lily's world, "UP" at the babysitter really means "up long enough for loves, and then you'll let me down so I can rip and race for a few more minutes".  She did eventually get let down, and after a little bit more conversation with the babysitter, I tried to get her coat on her.

Everything was pretty much business as usual until Bob walked in the house. Bob is the babysitter's husband, and Lily has him wrapped around her little fingers. As his lanky figure disappeared into the kitchen, she looked at me with those wide gray eyes, and solemnly asked "Cookie?"

"No."

"Cookie!" More insistent this time. Bob regularly gave her cookies, and she was bound and determined to have her cookie. It didn't matter that we were ready to head out the door, and she was inside a warm house wearing a warm coat.

"No, Lily. We're getting ready to go, and you aren't allowed cookies in your carseat."

"Cookie!" As I started to say no again, the babysitter spoke up.

"She thinks because Bob's in the kitchen, she can get whatever she wants." Her voice was rich with mirth. She knew my little red-headed heathen very, very well. What happened next almost made me bust a gut laughing.

The babysitter had just finished speaking when Lily stared at me with this Duh, Mom expression on her face, and said "Yeah!" What made it even funnier is that Lily doesn't just say "Yes" or "No". She adds tonal emphasis to the words. Basically, she packs that one short word with a ton of attitude. "Yeee-aAAah" She even threw in a decisive nod for emphasis.

Given that she's only 21 months old, I don't generally expect Lily to 'know' what someone is talking about unless it involves the words "bottle" or "diaper change". Sometimes, though, when she responds as she did in that situation, I really think that she does understand, and I don't give her enough credit.

All throughout the day as that memory has randomly popped into my head, I have at least snickered.

Thank you, Lily, for the memory.