Three months out is really hard, and all of the connotations that that word carries: rigid, dense, unyeilding, impenetrable, difficult, unjust, brutal, grim... It's almost like our grief begins to doze, and then we hit an anniversary mark and an alarm clock goes off, waking it in all its ravenous fury. It squishes you, and then it eats you. But the next day you wake up, surrounded by all of your own familiar things, and you're back. Resurrected. Which is what life is about.
This day might crush you -- and that's okay. Because Charlotte deserves to be missed so passionately by her mama. And you can hold out your grief in your two cupped hands, like an offering. You can lay flat and still, like a pleasing sacrifice. But you will get up again. Eventually, your happiness that she was alive at all will catch up, breathless and apologetic, with your encompassing sadness over her death. And most of the time, happiness will be the showstopper. Happiness will win. I believe that for you.
It may sound cruel, but I'm glad you're so upset right now. There is more to being a mother than changing diapers and teaching table manners. There is unconditional love. There is showing a child how much you believe in their personhood. There is an availability and a vulnerability that not everyone has it in them to give. But you do. And it's beautiful. Angela, you are a really good mom! Charlotte is lucky to have you.
Love -- vera kate
August 15, 2010
for Angela (Little Bird)
and anyone else who is grieving someone or something today.