I tried reading the journal a mother is writing about losing her 17 month old daughter the week after Mary. It’s written in a blog on the internet. I had to stop. Even though our children were years apart, we sound just like each other. It was like listening to mirror image of myself. Her death was almost as sudden as Mary’s. She caught an infection and died the same day. But her mother got to say good bye. It was too late but she got to hold her baby, and kiss her, and hug her one more time. It doesn’t make it any less harder for either of us. But I wonder if it would have made a difference for me. I suppose I could have told the funeral home I wanted to see Mary. But I’ve seen too many TV shows about people getting autopsies. I was afraid. I remember thinking those days before her party that she was all alone laying on a cold metal table somewhere and I wasn’t’ there to take care of her. I wanted her home and warm and snuggled in bed. I was afraid if I did see her I would never remember her smiling and happy. I hope I made the right choice.
Many people talk about their loved ones “passing on”. It sounds so nice and comfortable, easy to say. I can’t say it. Mary was ripped from our lives without a seconds notice. Wham Bam Gone. That’s why it’s so easy to expect her to just be standing behind me when I turn around. Like playing peek-a-boo. My rational and irrational selves are fighting with each other again.
My friend came to visit me this week. Tonight we all went out to dinner (Julie and the kids). I talked about Mary the whole night. Gabe looked at me and said “you’re eyes are watering”. I didn’t think I was crying. I said no they’re not. He said again, “there is water in your eyes right there” and he pointed. So now I guess I can cry without knowing it. How odd. Is that a trick or a gift I have been given? Maybe it’s a good thing I wear sun glasses wherever I go.
I was at work for about 6 hours today. I wish I could tell you I worked the whole time. But I didn’t. Concentrating on anything is really hard. I try, I really do. But I’d rather write or talk or think about Mary.
I see you
I see you walking down the trail. Will you walk with me?
Step by step we can walk together, side by side.
Just like kids in a three legged race leaning on each others embrace.
Counter balancing each other with grace.
See how much I need you?
I see you playing in the grass. Will you play with me?
We can toss the ball and let the dogs jump up.
Throw it so high we’re running all around
Bumping into each other falling on the ground.
See how much I miss you?
I see you digging in the garden. Will you plant with me?
We’ll plant seeds and watch them grow.
Water their roots so they’ll grow tall
First in the spring and then in the fall.
See how much I care for you?
I see you sewing at your table. Will you sew with me?
We’ll go shopping for flowers and bows.
String for the purses and yarn for the hats
Zippers to work on and mistakes to laugh at.
See how much I want you?
I see you standing with your arms held out. Will you hug me?
Squeeze me tight and don’t let me go.
Tell me everything will be alright
Then maybe I can sleep tonight.
See how much I love you?
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