Thursday, January 29, 2015

When I Think

#writeingrief Day 26--An exercise in taking phrases and sentences that I have previously written and making something new from those words. So here is what I wrote a few weeks ago when I was writing for round 1 of Write Your Grief.


When I think secret...
I think about how the safe zone is bullshit.
I remember when she was hiding from me in my dream, and I got to seek her, my alive daughter.
I realize that living with missing pieces, living with the scars, means that I do so under concealment. Scars are secrets. Concealment means that people will think I’m ok (not crazy).
Sometimes the secret is from myself--like trying to grow our sweet (should have been) rainbow baby with the joy and the fear and the love, but trying to cover the fear as much as and for as long as I possibly could.


When I think about my dreams, my potential world takes on a new meaning.
Dreams seemed so easy. Before. Giving our boys a new sibling who lives.
Along with everything else, dreams need to be put back together, but my puzzle has holes.
Dreams After: a feather on my sleeve and calling to her, “Alaska...Alaska…” Dreams are the only place where I have seen her alive body.


When I think about what I can’t believe…
I can’t believe that I can be shattered, but I can also be steady.
I can’t believe I broke my son’s birthday wish and his heart. The joy was taken away with just a few words.
I can’t believe that we lost our babies even though I knew we could.
I can’t believe that I really can hold grief and joy and pain and beauty and love in one space.
I can’t believe the judgement.
I can’t believe the guilt.
I can’t believe that my heart can be full and broken.


When I think about the very beginning, it’s almost impossible to imagine.
How very blessed. It’s the same love, though. It’s the same love that carries through.
My grandfather died before I was born; my daughter died before she was born. It’s not how it was supposed to go. Why couldn’t she get just a few breaths? Is air such a limited resource that she couldn’t have just a few? She could have some of mine. I’m not using them all up these days anyway.

The thing about “supposed to get our happy ending” is…*shrugs*...the safe zone is bullshit. Anything can happen. (Clarification: Anything can happen to anyone at any time.)