Saturday, May 18, 2013
What is seen and unseen...
Even your Nanna-Memoo and your living brother and sister heard weeks later. And at that, I found myself typing on chat or PM with them to tell them. I seem to have lost my out loud voice with the death of your most recent sibling, loves. I'm sure you know already, but Mimi died on Easter morning, too. Your world over there is getting more populated than my living world in some ways.
Before this baby died, I was already clearing space in my life, trying to shift as many things away from me as possible to open space. I have wanted to do nothing but focus on the work I'm doing with Auntie Cath and then have space and space and space. Our new house share here on the island is perfect for that. It is often quiet and sunny in the backyard with lots of growing greens and lovely creatures. Even when we hear our housemates, it is so quiet and full of love and space. There is a very deep, resonating chime hanging next to the house, so with the wind each day, I feel I'm hearing the ring you'd hear at silent retreat. I knew I was wanting quiet, calm, space for this baby brother or sister.
As it turns out, I am wanting that quiet, calm, and space for myself. For mourning his/her death. For pondering what karma is playing out as each of you has died. For sitting with what was probably my last chance.
It has all left me with a need for huge swaths of time alone and in silence. It has left me very hesitant to make too many plans each week. It has left me wanting to just have open days -- as many in a row as possible -- to spontaneously do (or not do) whatever feels ... ??? ... right? good? okay? inspiring?
It has all left me incredibly grateful for the paths I took in life to end up married to your father. To find my way to self-employment so that I can have days as I wish. To find my way back to this quiet island so there is space, large bodies of water, and gentle creatures who aren't afraid to approach me. Incredibly grateful.
Odd. Third child dead. Heart broken with grief. Again. And yet. Incredibly. Grateful.
I miss you each so much. I wish I'd had more time with each of you. I will always love you.