There are, on occasion, those moments in life…when something randomly appears, takes your breath, and brings you back to that one point in life where everything was…so…indescribably difficult. It happens so fast that when your focus is shifted, and you begin to realize that this…this right here, is reality? You are so…so….overwhelmingly thrilled with it, that there really isn’t anything left to do, except step outside and take in the amazing reality that you are here, right now, with this, which happens to be yours.
These past few days, I have been reintroduced to the fact that life, is a fragile thing. That death, still creeps in and snatches precious life, everyday…and its enough to take me back to those moments, years ago, when Emmy was born…and how…small, and little she was. The fact that she was so tiny, was enough to keep me away for one simple fact: I didn’t want to break her. She was tiny, and fragile and that was nothing I could handle. But a year later would find me blowing bubbles on her tummy, while she rippled with laughter. It would see me tossing her in the air, and watching for a brief moment as her hair would fly up and her smile turn with her eyes…and seconds later I would hold her tight and whisper in her ear just how much I loved her. Two years, just doesn’t seem to be enough time to have the one you love, ripped away. It doesn’t seem fair, and it doesn’t seem right…infact, it seems downright, wrong.
A little over a year ago, I held my niece as her tiny body took the last breaths, and she too, stepped into the world of the unknown. It was a moment in my life that really….took me by surprise. Because while I knew chances weren’t good…there was still that shred of hope that I clung to, firmly believing that she would open her eyes and smile…again. That afternoon, it seemed as though life was…a blur. The world around me spun with no clear direction, and as I stumbled through the proper steps, I couldn’t help but wonder what this life…this world…thus cruel, heartless place of existence was coming to.
Last week, I send an email to a friend. Telling her that she was right, there was such thing as happiness, and I was living it. It was true…at that moment, I couldn’t have been happier with things, even though its been a hell to get here, and even harder to STAY here. The only thing that mattered was that I was here…and that…was ok with me.
This past week, I have been told by two different people, that two different friends have lost, two separate children…and my heart did a little flip. The pain, and anxiety that comes from loosing a child is nothing that could ever be summed up in words. It takes your breath, your life, your words, away…it literally, leaves you lifeless, as if your heart has been ripped out…because in a sense…it has. Then, this weekend, I discovered that two different kids had passed away, and as I clicked the links and followed the stories that came…read the words, and felt the gut wrenching, heart twisting words that can only be described as horrible, I suddenly felt a twinge of guilt. Guilt for living, for laughing, for loving again. For giving life a chance again.
Its been a hell, literally, to get here from where I was two, three, four years ago on that day that my own precious daughter was ripped from my arms. To read it, to hear it, to…KNOW it…there is nothing I can say, or do, or even think…that will help these families deal with these losses…nothing, because I know, all to well, that it’s a journey that will take time…dreaded, time…to deal with…long after the kind words stop, and the people stop asking, weeks after the name is forgotten, and the comments start being made…years later, when you learn to live again…time still, seems to linger on…time does NOT heal everything…time…softens the blow, only because you learn to deal with the loss. You learn to…grasp the fact that you will never wake up to see that smiling face, you learn…nothing else. No one else.
Its heartbreaking to read of these things…its…word taking to hear of them…and what little I can do, doesn’t seem to even make a mark on what these families will face. My thoughts will be with them, not JUST today, because plenty of thoughts will be there today…but tomorrow, and next year…when it seems as though you are alone in a world that doesn’t understand…
A short amount of time. Four kids. Four different families.