Tuesday, June 12, 2012

Afraid of the Dark

I needed to go feed Addalee and go to bed like an hour ago.  I need the sleep, and she needs the milk.  But I can’t bring myself to go upstairs into the dark quiet of bedtime.  I’m not afraid of the dark, per se, I’m afraid of what my mind does in those empty moments before sleep blurs my thoughts.  I’m afraid to relive.  I’m afraid to regret.  I’m afraid to think of how badly I miss her.  I’m afraid to strain to remember her face, her smell.  I’m afraid to panic when I think I’ve forgotten a single detail.  I’m afraid.

Life has been a little heavy lately.  My heart has been filled with such joy and sadness, it’s so completely sad, and yet blissful at the same moment.  Caroline has been so present on my mind.  Each day, she’s in the forefront.  I’m constantly thinking of that darling girl.  How could this really be our story?  How could she really be real? But she is real.  She was a perfect and beautiful baby girl; a baby girl that I would still give my very life to have.

I don’t want to wallow.  That’s not helpful in any shape, form, or fashion.  But I’m just so freaking sad.  I can’t lie about it.  I can’t pretend that it isn’t killing me right now.  Because it’s weighing me down.  I don’t want to cry.  I don’t want this.  I just don’t.

I’m just about to force myself up those dark stairs.  I’ve almost worked up enough nerve.  And like a scared child, I will run to the safety of my bed (after I feed my little happy girl), and hide under the covers, and pray for all I’m worth until I fall asleep.  And tomorrow, the sun will come up, and the weight will seem more manageable.  But tonight…tonight, I’m afraid of the dark.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

They Were Blue

Her eyes were blue.  Caroline’s eyes were the same color as her little sister’s eyes.  I just learned this TODAY.  I know that sounds weird, but it’s the truth.  I didn’t look at her eyes in those 4 hours I spent holding her.  It’s something that I have kicked myself for since the day of her funeral.  I didn’t look at her eyes.  I could only use my imagination to visualize her eyes. 

I was talking to my mother-in-law and mentioned that I hated that I missed my chance to see my sweet girl’s eyes.  I cried as I told her that I didn’t know if her eyes were blue like her Daddy’s (and now her sister’s), or if they were brown, like mine.  She simply said, “They were blue.”  I told her that I had always visualized them being blue, in my dreams, in my thoughts, they’re blue.  I thought she was just guessing as Arthur and I have been in these almost 2 year without her.  But she went on to tell me that she did look at them.  Wow.  I have one more tiny piece of the puzzle of my girl that I didn’t get to keep.

It might seem like a small detail (to those who haven’t walked this path).  But when you only have precious few hours to capture a lifetime of memories, every.single.thing. matters.  I didn’t do things exactly as I wish I had.  I missed things that I will always wonder about, but I did the best I knew how to do given the circumstances.  But today, I can tell you, her eyes were blue.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Quick Update

An update on my grandmother:  She has been moved to a rehab hospital so they can work intensively on her recovery.  She came through the surgery well, and though we still don’t have back the official pathology report, the doctors have said that they do not believe it to be cancer.  So thankful for this!  I’m also thankful to each of you who thought of us and prayed for her!  Please continue to do so as she still has a long way to go!