Jan 29, 2011

the year

happy birthday?  i'm not sure what to do today.  my little tessie.  my kickiest baby.  you would be walking.  you would eat cake and ice cream today.  shane would hug you too hard and knock you over.  you would cry.  or maybe hit or kick him.  daddy would get all overwhelmed at the commotion. 

anyway.  mommy loves you loves you loves you.

thank you for Noah.  if you're reading this, you probably already have the sensitivity not to suggest that one child can replace another.  i am more comfortable telling our story when strangers ask.  and i'm going to start correcting this suggestion.  i want to keep all of my children,  wouldn't you?  i would have kept them both, i'll say.

Brynn, please know how dear you are to me.  Hey.  Did you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world?  She walked out on me ... i think i mentioned earlier i had this Roger Whitaker song in my head on the way to that most hainous of midwife appointments.

The experiences of this past year have made me stronger and wiser, and most significantly given me the sense of community support.  that has been the most powerful thing to me.  like so many others in my situation, some people who were previously close did nothing, but others who stepped up more than made up for it.  i've written before how every little gesture, message, whatever, just physically upheld me.  What a gift to be given this empirical knowledge.  It is enough to heal as deep a sorrow. 

 i do understand how you could be afraid to do the wrong thing.  here is the advice i give to myself now, going forward.  don't do nothing,  do something.  you dont have to say anything.  bake something, send a card and just sign it if you dont know what to say.  don't be afraid of the bereaved person.

i used this phrase a lot: "so and so showed up for me."

i'm not capitalizing because i hold my sleeping baby with my left hand.  yea for that!  What a mother f-ing year.

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful post again. I hope it is not too private to comment on! Thanks for helping people help you this year, for saying what helps and what doesn't, and for inviting others into your grief. It's easy to be afraid of a bereaved person. The grief can be like a chasm. But you have held out your hand to us and helped bridge that gap with your words, your sharing, your openness. What a great gift for those who care for you.