Some days are harder than others. But to be honest, any day
that you have a child in Heaven is a hard day. It might not appear that I am
having a hard (or harder) day to others, but it doesn’t mean I am not having
one. I have just gotten really practiced at hiding the pain. Why hide the pain?
Because it makes people uncomfortable is the simple answer. I mean, can you
imagine casually asking someone, “How are you?” and having them reply honestly?
My honest answer would be something like, “My heart is aching and my throat
feels really tight today when I think of my daughter.” For whatever reason we all try to act like
everything is fine, so that is what I try to do most days.
But then there are the days when I can’t pretend it is
ok. The day I saw a rant on Facebook
about someone’s misbehaved 3.5 year old…The day we met with the headstone
company…The day I cleaned out the pantry and found baby food covered in a layer
of dust pushed to the far back…. Those days feel like I got sucker punched in
the gut. Literally, it physically hurts.
Those days leave me doubled over in pain and with deep sobs coming form
the part of your soul only your child can fill. Those moments feel like panic,
and anxiety, and fear. And then usually my sweet 6 year old pulls me out of that
place with insistent questions of, “Mom, are you crying? Why are you crying? Do
you miss Ruby? I do to. It is ok! We will see her again someday. Please stop
crying mommy. Your mascara is running!”
After those moments, (and I have wiped my mascara off!) I
feel more connected to Ruby. It is necessary for my soul to feel the raw
anguish of losing part of it’s self. I
don’t like to get to that point of grief very often, because I don’t like to
focus on the “death” part. I have really been able to separate her life and her
death in my mind and in my memories of her.
I wonder about Ruby a lot. I wonder if she feels the longing
for us, like we do for her? It must be different where she is. She must see the
bigger picture and have more patience for our reunion. I wonder if she misses
me holding her? Her sister playing with her? Her Dad talking sweetly to her? I
have to think she does.
I know all things will be made right one day. I hold on to
that. My loses will be returned to me.
Until then, we have faith. We have hope. We have memories,
and we have a perfect little daughter watching over us, and waiting for us. And
we have two more little daughters keeping us in the present here. I am so
thankful that God has given me these three girls. I feel the deepest amount of
appreciation to be their mother.
Posts
