"These are the reflections of the first days; but when the lapse of time proves the reality of the evil, then the actual bitterness of grief commences. Yet from whom has not that rude hand rent away some dear connection? And why should I describe a sorrow which all have felt, and must feel? The time at length arrives when grief is rather an indulgence than a necessity; and the smile that plays upon the lips, although it may be deemed a sacrilege, is not banished...we had still duties which we ought to perform; we must continue our course with the rest and learn to think ourselves fortunate whilst one remains whom the spoiler has not seized."
Mary Shelley from Frankenstein
Amazing how things I have read so many many times hold new meaning for me now. My seniors are reading this (which means I am, too), and this passage struck me in a way I didn't anticipate.

From: Stay or Leave by Dave Matthews
Stay or leave
I want you not to go
But you should
It was good as good goes
Stay or leave
I want you not to go
But you did

So what to do
With the rest of the day's afternoon hey
Isn't it strange how we change
Everything we did
Did I do all that I should
That I coulda done

Remember we used to dance
And everyone wanted to be
You and me
I want to be too

What day is this
Besides the day you left me
What day is this
Besides the day you went

So what to do
With the rest of the day's afternoon hey
Well isn't it strange how we change
Everything we did
Did I do all that I could

Remember we used to dance
And everyone wanted to be you and me
I want to be too
What day is this
Besides the day you went babe
What day is this

I used to listen to this song so much when I was pregnant with Will. I just loved it. I'm not sure why this particular song appealed to me so much at that time--it could've been due to my elevated hormonal state--who knows? I've never been a huge Dave fan, but I always did love a good sad song. And this song is more of a romantic song...I omitted the lyrics that are of a more amorous nature. But the lyrics I included above are so meaningful to me now. Because in some ways it still feels like the day I lost him. In a way, even though I know I've grown some and healed some and learned some, I feel completely frozen in that day. I can't get past the barrier: this wasn't supposed to happen. What do I do with myself now? How can you move forward when your brain and heart still reject what has happened to you?
Sometimes I can't believe that I'm walking around. I can't believe I make small-talk and send text messages and watch tv. I can't believe I function at all, to be honest. Because my heart does not feel functional. It's hobbled---laid low by a pain only my worst nightmares ever even hinted at. At least you can wake up from nightmares.
I still lose my breath for a moment when I pass the baby aisle at Kroger. Or when I walk by little boy clothes at Target. Or when I sit next to someone holding their infant. Or when I hear the name William. Or when I hear this song. And I find it hard to comprehend the existence of a time when those things won't make my breath catch in my throat.
And I can't imagine losing him...but I did.
And I can't imagine losing again. And I might.
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
I Peter 5:6-7

Knowledge

Sometimes I go hours without thinking about you. And at times, I would swear I'd gone an entire day without considering the fact that you are gone. I'm not sure how true that statement is...my sense of time is so skewed since losing you. Days can seem like hours and hours like days, and there is no telling why that is, but it is, nonetheless.
You know, sweet angel, I feel like I dove pretty deep into grieving for you this summer. But I am beginning to understand that I was comparing my pain and loss to pain and loss I've experienced earlier in my life. And those things...my other losses---well, the degree of loss is just not the same as this. And that is where I misjudged my progress. You see, I thought I had plumbed such immense depths...had ventured so far. But I haven't.
If I was walking down the street one day and someone shot a hole through me (let's just say through my abdomen), I would be able to measure the size of that hole. Doctors and forensic experts could tell me (in terms I wouldn't understand, most likely) the size of the hole--how it related to the size of the weapon and distance from which it was shot...how it was entirely dependent (in terms of size) upon multiple factors such as bullet caliber and body mass---angles and velocity and density and trajectory and other things that I obstinately ignored in science and math classes. And I would nod my head (and understand as much as I could), and I would go about the task of making sure that hole healed up properly.
But I'm not walking around with a bullet-sized hole in me. I am walking around with a you-sized hole in me. And I don't know any forensic expert or doctor or scientist who can measure the size of that hole...or really tell me how to make sure it heals properly. Because, truthfully, although part of living means enduring loss, the loss of you is something which defies analysis.
It is an injury which rejects attempts to fix or heal. It scoffs at description.
I could never measure your life. Your gravestone will show one date: May 2, 2009. That is the day you died. But that doesn't address the size of your life. I can't actually measure your life, because it entails more than the 280-something days you grew inside me. I lost your future...the infancy, the childhood, the adolescence, the youth, the growing independence, the maturing, and all of the stages that would've come after that...
And I lost my dreams for you.
Ironically, although I've lost my dreams for you, the Lord is giving you an eternity that is beyond my wildest dreams. And I am thankful that you rest happily in the arms of Jesus.
But, my sweet darling boy, I wanted to know you so badly. I wanted to hear your voice. I wanted to learn your smell . I wanted to memorize your face. I wanted to behold your sweet spirit. I wanted a million things that I'll never be able to articulate. Even my 'wants' refuse measurement.
And I'm so sorry I didn't give you the attention you deserved while you were with me. I know I'll always feel badly about that. I enjoyed you...loved you...longed for you, but I got caught up in the chaos and stresses and tensions of life, and I didn't truly appreciate the time we had together. Or maybe that's not true. Maybe that's the way I feel now...maybe that's the way this works. I don't really know.
I just want you to know that I wanted you. And I still want you. I look at my senior boys sometimes and think about the 18 year-old you'll never be. I think about the hearts you won't break. I think about the sports you won't play. I think about the friends you won't make. I think about the hugs you won't give me. I think about the future you won't plan. And after I think about all of these things you won't ever do, I realize that you're just fine without those things. But I know the world will ache with the loss of you, just as I do. It may be a quiet ache...it may be an ache that goes undetected by most. But I will know.

6 months...

i carry your heart with me by e.e. cummings

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Sunday, and you've been gone so long...

Child of my heart. Flesh of my flesh. It has been so long since I felt you. If only other people had felt you...had felt your strong kicks--your stretches and wiggles and flip-flops and hiccups. You were so full of life and I miss it every day. I've heard of phantom kicks...after a loss like this, some moms have times when they think they feel kicks or movement. I've never had that. You were so big and strong and busy...there is no mistaking---not even for a second--that you are gone. I saw a young mother holding her little boy at church last week. This baby is a little older than you would be right now. And he was clinging to his mommy with complete devotion....nestling close to her chest and holding her as tightly as he could. And I was so envious of that...because I know you were so strong--you would've been holding me that tightly. Maybe tighter. And I would feel so loved by you, little Will. So needed. And it feels selfish to admit that--that I am sad because I didn't get to feel loved and needed by you in that way.
Maybe I feel that way because I feel so pointless without you here sometimes. I have all of the instincts of a mom with a new baby...I want to be overwhelmed by the business of you--that's my job. But I'm so pitifully idle. No gear to tote. No schedule to follow and fret over. No baby messes to clean. No nursery to tidy. No diapers to take out. No cries to soothe. No you to coo over and discover and delight in.
And it's five minutes since you left me. And it's a million years, too.
I have to remind myself that you avoided the pain and difficulty of earthly life. That you live in perfect joy and happiness and that is all you'll ever know....
But I hope you remember that you lived in me for 9 special months. I hope you can understand that--because you are so very very special to me, my love. King David was so right...I will go to you, but you will not return to me. Some days I love that verse. And some days I hate it (the human part of me hates it quite often). Child of my heart. Flesh of my flesh. Please remember me.

I know He love me, but I still wonder why...

Oh, this cup.
This cup I have before me contains my boundless sorrow for my little lamb.
And you would think that would be plenty. I would think that would be enough to have to swallow...to have to drain.
But this cup of pain...this cup of bitter blazing hurt has been sitting before me for a few years now. And I know He loves me...but I still wonder why...
Why so many years, Lord? Can't You let me see what You're going to do with all of this...so that I don't have to trust quite so blindly? I will have faith in You regardless...I have to---there isn't any other way for me. I cannot get out of bed in the morning without You. I can't face work every day without You to fortify my nerves. I am wholly and utterly dependent on You. And I know, deep down in my soul, that You only give me things that are good for me. So this awful cup is going to be good for me, somehow. And I am too human...too blind to truly grasp that.
And though I know You have a plan...my petition is this: Father, please intervene. I know You can. Reach into our lives and heal this. I need You so badly, and I am begging You to take control and bring order to this chaos. We cannot fix this.

Psalm 130
Out of the depths
I have cried to You, O LORD.
Lord, hear my voice!
Let Your ears be attentive
To the voice of my supplications.
If You, LORD, should mark iniquities,
O Lord, who could stand?
But there is forgiveness with You,
That You may be feared.
I wait for the LORD, my soul does wait,
And in His word do I hope.
My soul waits for the Lord
More than the watchmen for the morning;
Indeed, more than the watchmen for the morning.
O Israel, hope in the LORD;
For with the LORD there is lovingkindness,
And with Him is abundant redemption.
And He will redeem Israel
From all his iniquities.

If it be Your will....

Thanks for reminding me of this song, J. I love you.

If It Be Your Will by Leonard Cohen

If it be Your will
That I speak no more
And my voice be still
As it was before

I will speak no more
I shall abide until
I am spoken for
If it be Your will

If it be Your will
That a voice be true
From this broken hill
I will sing to You

From this broken hill
All Your praises they shall ring
If it be Your will
To let me sing

From this broken hill
All Your praises they shall ring
If it be Your will
To let me sing
If it be Your will

If there is a choice
Let the rivers fill
Let the hills rejoice
Let Your mercy spill
On all these burning hearts in hell

If it be Your will
To make us well
And draw us near
And bind us tight
All Your children here
In their rags of light

In our rags of light
All dressed to kill
And end this night
If it be Your will
If it be Your will.