Thursday, May 24, 2012
In seven years I've come to feel like Sarah was , in a way, full of both, equally, at the same time. Two aspects living peacefully side-by-side in my heart.
In the beginning, when people would ask me how many children I had, I would feel guilty if I left her out of the number. Now, it's become a protective mechanism. If I tell them about her, I have to tell them all about her. I have to pick at the scab and make it bleed. Most of the time, I don't want to do that. It's become second nature to leave her off of the total number. So much so that I sometimes forget how many times I've actually given birth. And I did give birth to her.
I still think of her. A lot, actually. I've looked for meaning in her life and death, and I've found some. Without Sarah, there would not have been a Ciaran. Without Sarah, I might not have had so much hope for Liam. Without Sarah I would not have been able to know some people who've become very important to me over the years. Without Sarah, it might have taken me a lot longer to begin to question the belief system I had subjugated myself to, and get to where I needed to be spiritually and as a whole person (and it still wasn't exactly a quick conversion).
Even after seven years, I still look at her name on the marker and mourn my hopes and dreams for her. I could have had 3 little girls making me want to stuff cotton in my ears. And with three, two could take sides against one! And wouldn't puberty have been fun? But along with all of that, there are years of cuddles and kisses, and I-love-you's that I haven't had. I think it's fair, just once in a while, to allow myself to really miss that.
Grief can't be on the front burner forever, or we'd lose ourselves. But it never really goes away, either. It's put in a safe place, along with memories, and dreams, and that allows us to go through our lives and even be happy. But I do still miss her. I will always miss her. And to never look at what I miss would be to not acknowledge what a profound impact she had on my life.