As I journey down this path of grief and loss, I get stuck in my head.
Instinctively I want to say “Life sucks.” But it doesn’t, not really. It can’t. Because life it what I wish to my angel. To breathe, and walk and live. And if life sucks, I’m wishing a curse to my child.
I guess it doesn’t really matter—my wish can’t be truth. My child is gone, never to draw breath. Buried in the earth in an unmarked resting place (I’ll never be more thankful that my hospital buries the children of D and C removal—never can I be thankful enough to have a place to visit).
But still I wish my angel life.
And my sunshine—life is what I gave her. And want her to hold on to.
So while life hurts—it can’t suck. Not entirely.
And on the days where all I can think, all I can say, is “I can’t do this.” I still hold on to life. I could never willfully end my life. No matter the pain. Because then I’d make life hurt for so many others. And my rainbows—they’d be nothing more than somedays never to be.
And so, I trudge along. Pulling myself up and moving through this harsh reality that is life.
And I live.
I live with my feet on the earth and my heart torn between my husband, my sunshine and our little angel.
And I wish life to them all…
No comments:
Post a Comment