Wednesday, September 1, 2010

September 1st, 2010 - Three months

How did three months go by so fast, and at the same time, so agonizingly slow?

Summer is a time when life is thriving and all we've had have been dark clouds floating over our heads. A tiny flame blown out too soon.

First, we learned it was okay to smile and then to laugh. We've been able to appreciate the miracle that is Sadie more and more as each day has passed.

We learned that there is no such thing as closure and that hanging white sheets over a bassinet and crib do not erase the events that led us to today.

We know that grief is out of our hands. It comes in waves and drags back out to sea our tears and pain like grains of sand.

I've had to watch my daughter slowly come to realize that her brother isn't coming home. I've comforted her in the night, when she wakes up in tears asking for her beloved Sawyer.

I have watched my husband stand so strong, going back to work so soon after - only to have the grief sneak up and rest itself on his broad shoulders. I have comforted him when I hear his quiet weeping coming from our bedroom in the darkness of night.

With the bad, surprisingly, comes the good.

Every day we hear a friend tell us of a butterfly or a rainbow, a hawk soaring in the sky or a beautiful sunset and how the moment spoke to them - Sawyer's spirit is everywhere.

I have discovered new friendships that will never die. Women with who I can be so painfully honest. Women that share my pain. Women that have loved and lost - and continue to love in the face of adversity.

Sawyer's time on earth was too brief. That time, however, is out of our hands. Where he left off, we have begun to pick up the pieces of our broken hearts and started our journey down a road dimly lit by the light of hope.

We love you, our sweet angel.


Minnesota Mom said...

"How did three months go by so fast, and at the same time, so agonizingly slow?"

Michelle your words resonate deeply with me. Our son would have just turned two, and I am still deeply confounded by the workings of time in our life after him. I hope it helps to know you are not alone.

Becca's Dirt said...

I have just come upon your blog and have been reading. Michelle I am so sorry for your loss. You are right - 'we aren't suppose to bury our babies'. I have never had to deal with anything such as this and words seem so useless at this moment. I wish I could hug you and just tell you what an amazing person you are. God bless you sweetie. I will pray for you and your family. Becca

Nicole said...

Michelle, this is so beautiful. Your writing is just amazing and I love to read what you write. This is all so true. I got chills while reading the entire thing. You are amazing and so very loved. Just wanted you to know. <3

Michelle said...

Nicole - I feel the same way about your writing. And all BLM's for that matter. I read every comment from everyone, and each means the world to me. I am so glad we can all share in our grief, together as one.

Lindsay said...

Your blog is wonderful. I love the fact that you are so open with your family's loss. You are a great writer and I continue to look forward to reading your newest blogs. Lindsay