Today is Zuzu's third birth/death day. Daddy gave me his phone to download some of his pics, and the image you see here was one that came across. All scrambled. As if it were developed badly in the dark room. Bits and pieces of a puzzle that is put together in such a wrong way. And yet, it was the one that spoke to me. I told Daddy I thought it was stunning, and he smiled, saying, "You always do like the weird ones."
It got me thinking about this weird life we've cobbled together from fragments and pieces. It reflected some sort of bodily experience I've been having all week. And then it dawned on me. Oh. Yes. This was Zuzu's week. I feel the reverberations of that disorientation. Not the same as it was in the moment back then. But some echo of it. And there are still echoes of your littlest brother who was born dead just three and a half months ago, too. I am disoriented even while seeming to walk a straight line.
My bones ache with missing all of you. And at the same time, there is a part of me glad you never had to live this life. The chaos of planet Earth is ... well, it just isn't something I'd wish on anyone at this point. It can be an adventure, interesting, fun, even Light in the ways your Daddy is learning about through meditation and stillness. But always at the edges, there is suffering. Always dancing around the most still of beings is the chaos of the relative world. I'm happy you did not have to go through this world. If rebirth does exist, I hope you've found your way out of the cycle now.
For your day this year, Zuzu, I think we'll spend some time near water, the beach, something. Even if just for the afternoon. We'll watch the birds and boats. We'll take in the immense nature of the large body of the Puget Sound. I'll imagine that huge body of water as one being who is staring back at us, two specs on the shore. A being who wonders who these two small creatures are and why they are here. If I see any starfish, I'll send Reiki to them for you, Zuzu. If we come across ripe, wild blackberries, we'll eat a few for you.
In the scrambled picture of the life we are still living, we'll be loving you this day. Like we do every day. But through and through in the ache of my body today.
You boys take care of each other.
Love,
Momma
