Tuesday, August 7, 2012

1, 2, 3, 4, 5.5

One Year.
Two months.
Three weeks.
Four days.
5.5 hours.

That’s how long it’s been since I first said goodbye.

Damn, time has a funny way of changing one’s perspective. When I first got home, empty armed and broken hearted, I felt like time would never let me out of its clutched and shaking fist. I thought things like, “Tomorrow will be one day further away from being with her for the last time,” and I sunk a little deeper in my despair, every day, for I don’t know how long. Eventually, I started feeling the exact opposite, and if you’d asked me, I would have told you that time is moving way too slow. It felt like I was being dragged behind a boat, nearly drowning in the wake. It just never went quite fast enough to ‘get up’. And before I knew it, birthday #1 had me wondering how the hell did I just manage to live a whole YEAR without her, as I frantically searched my heart for the most meaningful gesture I could conjure for the date, and in such short notice. (As if I didn't know it was coming!) I failed to come up with anything. Nothing seemed to be big enough, or meaningful enough, so I didn’t really DO anything. I felt like a horrible mommy to my angel.

In the two months, three weeks, four days, and five hours since, I forgave myself for not throwing the most awesome party anyone has ever seen. I also realized that I wasn’t quite ready to make such decisions, nor was I very experienced in throwing party’s for dead people… let alone my own daughter. It was ok that I sucked at it this go around. When year one made it’s notch on my brand new baby-loss belt, I still had that dark cloud hovering over me, keeping me down and raining on all my good thoughts. Not anymore. I’m ready for next year, though it’s still a long ways away. Regardless, I’m pressing the reset button here and now, and actually planning a party for Carly for next year. Probably something akin to the opening ceremonies at the Olympics, if I have my way! Nah, seriously, it doesn’t have to be that grand, I just don’t want another year to pass without celebrating her existence, as we do for our living children.

Yeah, I still cry for her every day. And yes, my heart still aches unbearably from time-to-time. I don’t think that will every change. But those tears and that pain have almost become my friend. They remind me of her, and I like to be reminded of her. Ergo, I like the tears and the pain. Whatever works… ya know?!

I love you, baby… always will!

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

After reading this I wish I could have answered the phone today. I couldn't have described my feelings better. The pain & tears are a relief - the only way I have to honor her & confirm she mattered. I felt the same way - each day was a day further away from holding her. Now it's a day closer to being reunited. I had big plans, too. A blog, a book, a foundation, a party...something to keep her present in this world. I'm starting to realize she'll always be present because of how much I love her and miss her. It's not enough though. Nothing will ever be enough. They were too special to compare. Xo