We are leaving for Florida today. About a month ago, deep in holiday grief, I couldn't imagine this trip actually happening. But here we are, mostly packed and ready to go. We will visit Brian's family, meet a new brother-in-law to be, walk on the beach, and soak up some warm weather, even if it's only in the 60s. New England? Not in the 60s.
This grief process is so disconcerting. Three weeks of awfulness around Christmas followed by 2 weeks of okayness, followed by 3 days in the shit, followed by doing okay this week. We are coming up on 11 months, and I can barely believe it's almost been a year. Right now I expect to be triggered here, there and everywhere, remembering how things were last January. But it hasn't been like that. It's just been this life, right here, as it is, without her.
I miss her a lot. Understatement.
But not broken today. Maybe broken tomorrow. Why? Why not? This is a long, long ride.....
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longing...
"...for the vanished girl her mother searched and visited all lands in turn. Where the girl was she knew not, but she reproached the whole wide world, and in chief the places where she had found the traces of her loss. She roamed the earth over in search of her daughter, by day and by night with torches, from sunrise until sunset, hour by hour. Bitter pain seized Demeter's heart, and she sped like a wild bird over the firm land and yielding sea, seeking her child. But no one would tell her the truth, neither god nor mortal men; and of the birds of omen, none came with true news for her."
- Ovid, Homer, others, me
- Ovid, Homer, others, me
pre-term labor awareness
gifts
4 comments:
'But not broken today. Maybe broken tomorrow. Why? Why not?'
Those too questions drive me to distraction. I only wish I knew what causes that switch to flick back and forth.
I hope you have a lovely time in Florida. I think we'll always miss our girls a lot. xx
I often find that the times I most prepare myself for are the times that are the least troubling . . . then out of the blue it hits. Enjoy your time in the sun.
Getting away has been really good for us. I think we all have good days, OK days and bad days. Thinking about Angel Mae and you.
I am so sorry about the loss of you sweet, Angel Mae. We lost our daughter Zoelle, 1-4-09 at 24 weeks. Like you, the holidays have been rough, and I miss my little girl more then I can ever explain. Hugs to you!
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