Month: September 2018

My First Born

After being told that we would not be able to conceive, then having two miscarriages, YOU burst forth and shattered our world! Even then, without You knowing it, You brought joy into our discouraged existence.

I LOVE that You made my tummy swell with life. Every move, every kick…living, vibrant, ready to burst forth. In fact, You were so ready to come “into” our lives that You came early. I still remember Your Dad’s excitement and tears.

I LOVE Your passion. Your competitiveness. Your smile.

I LOVE that You came to me for “huggy-time”; that You laid on my lap so that I could scratch your back.

I LOVE that you defended Your Sister, even against me; that You would fight, but still be together; that You loved her; that You made her feel special; that You remember her; that You miss her.

I LOVE the love and respect You have for Your Father; that You make him feel special; that You have beautiful memories.

I LOVE that You love; how You look at her; how You touch her; how You have adventures together; how You dance.

Life has handed us a hard blow, but we are trying together, each with their own regrets, but NOT dealing with them on our own.

I read this:

“…I was helped by my only other child, my son, Rowan, who steadfastly called me on to life and away from a preoccupation with the tomb.” ~ John R. Claypool

It resonated with my heart.  Son, thank you for calling me onto life and away from a preoccupation with the tomb. I hear You! I see You! I LOVE YOU ❤

That Day

That long corridor…step by step. Feet as led, heavy, stuck, yet needing to move forward. That closed door…don’t open it! But, it needs to be opened…gasp! Into a cold, morbid room…knotted stomach, stuck to the spine. Was I even breathing?

Barely standing, gasping…wondering, how is this even possible? My legs felt like they would give way…a hand, loving and strong touched me – my son by my side!

There you were…no smile, no rolling of eyes, no “Hi Mom”…no movement, no sound. Your butterfly t-shirt, comfy pants and comfy socks, such normalness…yet, it didn’t seem right. The teddy bear named Gabriel was in your arms. I remember when it was given to you. I remember when you clutched to it, now it seemed, well, not right. I hear, “take as much time as you’d like.” Time…really, “as much as I would like?” Can I freeze time? Can I stop time? If I could, this is NOT the place I would choose.

“Time” ended…the choice was made. My husband, my son and I put our hands on that door, none of us wants to close. That door that will mark the “end” as we know it here on this earth. It closes, it snaps…my heart shatters, again.💔

Just Grief

Doctors try to medicate it.

Gurus try to meditate it.

PAIN…raw, searing pain.

Let me sit in it; let me feel it to the full.

It’s better than not feeling at all.

If I run from it; if I hide…it won’t make it better.

The depth of my love is greater than the pain.

It’s normal! It’s needed!

No masks!

No games!

JUST GRIEF…

I Write…

Thank you to the new follows and likes. Thank you for joining me on this journey (The Journey Begins)

I have a Love of Writing and reading.

I try to practice the discipline of hand writing every day on a notebook. I share some of my writings on this Blog. My blog is not like FB or IG where I share “daily” happenings.

Some reasons why I write:

I enjoy it; it brings clarity to my thoughts; it preserves “the story”; it tells “a story”.

Lately, it’s a way of “emptying” my cluttered brain. Writing somehow helps me make sense (to some degree) of the jumbled up messes in my heart and mind. Sometimes writing gives me peace.  It’s almost as if putting the words on paper, is a physical action that helps me to “let go”.

And so the journey continues, sometimes writing from the past, sometimes writing from the present. No rhyme or reason, simply “writing to heal, healing to write”.

 

Last Breath…

The dawn of another sleepless night. Your breathing shallow, sporadic…every interval, more and more distant. “It” was lurking at every corner, making “it’s” presence known, felt…making my body stand on edge. “It” had been announced months ago, AND, maybe we had “accepted it”, but the thought that “it” was…almost here was just so unnerving.

Your little frail body, almost a shell of what you had been, finally at peace; finally the screams, “Help, me Mom!” had been quieted. The horrible flow of you vomiting your insides had stopped. Finally, you lay oh so peaceful, not writhing in pain. BUT what was the cost?

At times begging The Father to take you already. At times clinging to every last second of life…wishing for one last

…Hug, smile, giggle, even a grouchy face, anything…one last MOMMIE…

I’m playing one of your favorite songs, trying to sing to you…YOU breathed in ANDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD it was over!!!

My heart pulverized into a gazillion pieces…

I know You are at peace in the very safest place you can ever be. I know I will see You again. I know…I know…I know…

BUT

How do I convince my aching arms that they will hold You, again? How do I tell my ears that they will hear Your voice, again? How do I tell my eyes that they will see You, again? How do I tell the fragments of my heart to beat, again?

I miss YOU, my beautiful girl ❤