Saturday, July 27, 2013
July 27th, 2013
Trever and I had a very interesting conversation about the pain we are feeling. It's such an intense pain, but I feel at a loss when I want to explain it. The experience is so complex, so much beauty mixed with the sadness and longing for Abigail. It all happened so quickly, and really the journey was so wonderful. I feel like a crazy person because sometimes I seriously sit and wonder where my deep sadness comes from... how can I be so sad while loving my life so much and also treasuring our beautiful story???
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
July 16th, 2013
I feel like a crazy person.
One minute I'm "fine" and the next minute I feel like my world is crumbling around me. I'm patient and loving towards my kids, and then short and frustrated.
My pain is bubbling up through the surface. And it's manifesting itself into anger and intolerance. I just want to escape from myself. I want to escape from the pain that I'm fighting to ignore, the pain that I really just want to crawl under the covers and embrace.
Oh, I just feel so damn dramatic today.
I am having so much time just living with the pain because I really can't put words to it. I don't have clear memories to attach to the ache in my heart. I can't describe the moments that I'm missing because there are so many.
Abigail would probably be trying to learn to walk. She'd be watching her sibling and wishing she could keep up. I would be overwhelmed and distracted, I wouldn't realize how lucky I was.
I'm left feeling thankful, lucky and sad.
I was asking Andrew to get some plates for Nathan and Natalie this evening. I wondered what it would sound like to ask someone to get plates for Andrew and Abigail. They would have become little buddies. When Natalie and Nathan were gone to school they would have developed a partnership.
We're talking about Abigail more lately since her birthday is coming up. We'll be spreading her ashes next week. I can't even fathom it. I want to make sure I'm really present in the moment, that I don't distract myself worrying about anyone else. I get that right, don't I? Everyone will have their own experience to work through, but I don't want to hold anyone's hand. I don't want any expectations on me, and I don't really give a damn if I disappoint anyone. But I will care afterward. And I'll be frustrated. I hope no one puts me in that situation.
Right now my anger is palpable. I want to say that I'm not angry about losing Abby. But maybe I am, maybe I still haven't given myself permission to be angry and I need to. I'm just consumed with my sadness and empty arms... but I feel angry at the people around me.
I'm so thankful that I don't feel any anger at Trever. Not being angry at him is one of the many blessings in my life, in this story.
One minute I'm "fine" and the next minute I feel like my world is crumbling around me. I'm patient and loving towards my kids, and then short and frustrated.
My pain is bubbling up through the surface. And it's manifesting itself into anger and intolerance. I just want to escape from myself. I want to escape from the pain that I'm fighting to ignore, the pain that I really just want to crawl under the covers and embrace.
Oh, I just feel so damn dramatic today.
I am having so much time just living with the pain because I really can't put words to it. I don't have clear memories to attach to the ache in my heart. I can't describe the moments that I'm missing because there are so many.
Abigail would probably be trying to learn to walk. She'd be watching her sibling and wishing she could keep up. I would be overwhelmed and distracted, I wouldn't realize how lucky I was.
I'm left feeling thankful, lucky and sad.
I was asking Andrew to get some plates for Nathan and Natalie this evening. I wondered what it would sound like to ask someone to get plates for Andrew and Abigail. They would have become little buddies. When Natalie and Nathan were gone to school they would have developed a partnership.
We're talking about Abigail more lately since her birthday is coming up. We'll be spreading her ashes next week. I can't even fathom it. I want to make sure I'm really present in the moment, that I don't distract myself worrying about anyone else. I get that right, don't I? Everyone will have their own experience to work through, but I don't want to hold anyone's hand. I don't want any expectations on me, and I don't really give a damn if I disappoint anyone. But I will care afterward. And I'll be frustrated. I hope no one puts me in that situation.
Right now my anger is palpable. I want to say that I'm not angry about losing Abby. But maybe I am, maybe I still haven't given myself permission to be angry and I need to. I'm just consumed with my sadness and empty arms... but I feel angry at the people around me.
I'm so thankful that I don't feel any anger at Trever. Not being angry at him is one of the many blessings in my life, in this story.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
July 3rd, 2013
There are moments that crush my soul. It's often a moment that is so beautiful feels devastating.
Today the kids and I went to the river with my dad. As we walked into the camper Natalie said "Look it's Abby" (or maybe she said "Look, Abby is in here"). Nathan instantly perked up and swung around saying "where?".
When Natalie showed him that she was talking about a picture of Abigail he visibly deflated. Then he said "Oh, I thought she was really here. I wish she was here." He went to say something about how amazing that would have been. You could see that his little heart had really responded to Natalie's first comment.
All I could say was that I wish she was here too.
I keep a wall up most days, when the wall cracks and I get a glimpse into my pain it's almost too much to handle.
I can't believe it's almost been a year.
Today the kids and I went to the river with my dad. As we walked into the camper Natalie said "Look it's Abby" (or maybe she said "Look, Abby is in here"). Nathan instantly perked up and swung around saying "where?".
When Natalie showed him that she was talking about a picture of Abigail he visibly deflated. Then he said "Oh, I thought she was really here. I wish she was here." He went to say something about how amazing that would have been. You could see that his little heart had really responded to Natalie's first comment.
All I could say was that I wish she was here too.
I keep a wall up most days, when the wall cracks and I get a glimpse into my pain it's almost too much to handle.
I can't believe it's almost been a year.
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