Oh the blessing of not knowing what’s coming!
This time last year much of my family had just wrapped up several days of boisterous togetherness forced upon us by Hurricane Dorian.
It was the first time Mama and Papa had seen their great-grandson and it was an unexpected blessing to ooh and aah over him, hold him and witness an infant milestone as he perfected the art of turning from his back to his stomach before our eyes.
Mama was energized and so much like her old self singing lullabyes and funny songs and absolutely delighting in him!
We had no way of knowing that in a few short weeks she would be gone.
I’m struggling a bit right now.
It seems that as the days grow shorter the light reflected in my windows mimics the springtime light that reminds my heart of when Dominic left us. The mirror image of his time of leaving and Mama’s time of leaving are not lost on this body.
He ran ahead in spring and she in fall. For those of us who live by the sun and length of day there is a corresponding physical reaction as the golden orb makes its journey through the sky.
I’ve fallen back into the pattern of going to sleep only to be awakened in the middle of the night and unable to go back to sleep. Every dream, every. single. night. has a theme of loss, impotence and deep sadness. I don’t know how to stop it.
Of course my dad has it harder.
I can’t help him any more than he could help me when Dom left us.
All I can do is listen, let him know I absolutely, positively understand and pray that each day he receives sufficient grace and strength to endure.
I know many in the child loss community express that nothing compares to burying a child. I would agree. Out of order death is uniquely traumatic. No parent births a child thinking he or she will outlive that baby brought home from the hospital.
But my mother’s death (the first significant loss since Dom died) has tossed me back on the rocks of grief.
It taps the wound and makes it fresh.
Places I thought were fairly healed are not nearly as scarred over as I thought.
So I’ll walk back through last year, remembering.
Acknowledging that death is awful, whenever and however it visits us.