Tuesday, July 12, 2011


I recently wrote about grief tidal waves. Yesterday I was hit by one.

I knew the date of Janessa's original due date was approaching. July 11th, 2009. It's been two years but it still stings so painfully. It is a date that I will never forget because it was the date our daughter was expected to be ready to enter our world, to physically join our family. Her due date landed on the anniversary of a dear friend's death. I can't help but think there was some meaning in that coincidence. Two lives taken way too soon. I like to think he checks in on her now and then, wherever their spirits reside.

I woke up this morning feeling extra heavy with sadness. When the baby went down for his first morning nap, I was able to check out and have a little cry-it-out time and a few short bursts throughout the day. It was long overdue. . The wave still hasn't released me.

I held JD a little extra yesterday. I cried as I stared at him in his crib and as I rocked him in his nursery. As I sit in that rocker and look around the room, I still see the purple paint behind the blue. I see the plush butterflies on the chairs that now have airplanes and boats on them. I see what almost was.

I am grateful for what is, but the mother in me still does not know how to live without one her children.

In some alternate dimension, this past weekend may have been her second birthday party. As I sat this morning on my back porch, where I spent many hours in my initial grief, I tried to picture that life with her. I pictured the party that would have been held in our backyard. I could see her dress and her little pig tails with ribbons, and how they bounced as she gleefully ran throughout the yard. In my vision I was always just a arms reach away. I am too far away from her now. In these visions, her face  eluded me. How I long for a glimpse of her, of what she would like now. I have spent many hours day-dreaming of her.

In honor of her due date, my mother came over to tend to the boys so I could work on Janessa's memorial websites. I lit one of her memorial candles and placed it on the desk next to her picture while I worked and let it burn far into the evening.

I took a moment and studied her picture and tried to remember her being here, in my arms, where I was able to touch her. Those memories are not as vivid as they once were. I am clinging to them as hard as I can but they continue to slip away. But she was here. Sometimes I have to reiterate and convince myself of this because her time with us was a fleeting moment. SHE DID EXIST. She does exist, maybe in that other dimension and if not there, I know her energy exists. I know and feel this in my soul. Hers is out there somewhere.

Tonight after I had finished working, I held and stared at her picture again. As the candlelight flickered its glow upon her face, I stroked her cheek and wished for more...so much more.

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