Signs? – by Simone
As I mentioned in an earlier post, I have been looking for signs from you…anything really…
A few days ago, I was in our bedroom playing with Murray on the bed, and I suddenly heard this vibrating noise. I ignored it for a while, not being able to figure out what on earth it was. I couldn’t ignore it anymore and I went into the bathroom and somehow my electric toothbrush had turned itself on! Completely bizarre! And I am going to believe that that was a sign from you! Hi my baby girl, mommy hears you and loves you.
I went to church last night to “spend” an hours uninterrupted time with you. Some time where it can just be quiet in a safe place and where I can think of you. It also would have been your 9 month birthday yesterday, and I found the thought of that really hard as I know what a sweet, little busy bee you would have been. Anyway, one of the hymns happened to be “For All The Saints” the song we sang at your memorial service. Another sign?
And then today I stumbled across a blog post from an old friend of your dads, who has also lost a child and whose book I have just finished reading. I thought that I would go and check her blog out, and the first post I happened to read was this – a post about you and us my darling child. How is that my sweet girl?? I am going to see that as another sign from you.
And perhaps they are indeed nothing and something I am willing to see so hard that I am making something out of nothing. But for now they make me feel better, make me feel closer to you, and I guess thats all that matters.
Below is the blog post and what the beautiful words she wrote. Thank you Jami for speaking to me… x
“GIVE SORROW WORDS; THE GRIEF THAT DOES NOT SPEAK KNITS UP THE O-ER WROUGHT HEART AND BIDS IT BREAK.” ― WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, MACBETH
These words appear at the top of a blog started by an old school friend after losing his little girl two weeks ago. I watch them try to deal with their pain from afar, I want to comment but it’s too soon. It’s too close. I want to say something, anything, to let them know it will be okay. But the truth is, it won’t.
It will not be okay to live without the child you have lost, it will never be okay. You will survive it, and you will grow and learn from it. But every day, for the rest of your life, you will carry a deep longing for something completely unattainable. Your heart will break on a thousand different days, in a thousand different ways, with every anniversary and with every unexpected reminder.
Looking through old photos yesterday I found one of Sam that I swear I had not seen before. We are at a Christmas party and he is sitting on the grass with a serious look on his face, far far far older and wiser than the 17 months he was. And immediately I tumble down the slippery slope of grief, unable to stop myself and unable to grab hold of anything to keep me afloat. I have learnt to feel it,to sit with it and to allow myself to flow through it as it flows through me.
But that is not the right thing to tell them now. I don’t know the mother of this little angel, but I feel her pain acutely. I want to hold her hand and wipe her tears and try to send some strength from my heart to hers. Because this pain they are experiencing, this journey that we share, will change their lives and will shape them into new people. Better people. Broken, open, fierce, passionate people. I see from their unfolding story that they have chosen to see the wonder of it. The goodness of people, the power of their child to awaken the best in others and make them feel their lives more deeply, hold their families more tightly, to truly show them on a soul level what is important in this world we live in. This little girl has touched me, and reminded me, and I am truly grateful.
Every day we get up, and we keep going. There are happy times, and shitty times, and every variation in between. Lately has been leaning more towards the shitty side of the scales, if I’m honest. So it’s good to be reminded…these little hiccups in the road, the stresses which feel so big and scary and terrible, they are not real. The one thing that matters, in the end the only thing, is love. Loving the people in your life who hold you up, and being loved in return.
My writing has helped me to reach so many other broken souls, to form golden connecting threads between us all, and this is my purpose and my path to healing, and I have let the details of life get in the way of it. I have been kept so busy running that I have not made time to write, but today I have made a start. Thank you precious Isabella and your beautiful family.
One day, one beautiful glorious sunshiney joyous day, we will walk with our children again.