Thursday, March 29, 2007

Please understand, I do love you

I lie in the dark and the words stampede around and around in my brain as if they are looking for a way out. Only at night. Why do they only seem willing to run free at night when I am trying to contain them so that I might sleep?

Last Saturday I replaced two tiny Christmas trees at the cemetery with two Easter pinwheels...blue with Easter bunnies in the center...very festive. And I didn't feel a thing. I felt cold and dead and ready to curl up on top of the wet earth...and just...give up. It is tiresome having to go through the motions season after season, pretending to care for that little plot of earth that I wish never existed. It wears heavy on my body. My bones ache with the weight of trudging through another day. My arms ache to hold them just.one.more.time. Sickly enough, I'm jealous of those saying goodbye today to their little ones because they are at least seeing them...holding them.

The thoughts that play in my mind...the nightmares...

It is so funny how the most complex things can be said between those of us who "know" in such a few words. The nightmares. You know. If you don't know then you should count your blessings and know that hell has nothing on this life. I am so tired of ending up in the sad place and I am tired of ending in the angry place. And yet I have nowhere else to go. True happiness is forever out of my reach by a mere breath. Two breaths, actually.

Without a compass, I have wandered aimlessly around trying to read the markers and trying to forge a path. I have no idea where I am going, but I am making good time...or at least trying to. Always keep moving. It's harder to hit a moving target. But I find that the markers are all in a language I cannot understand and the path is overgrown with something I can not seem to clear.

For the last two weeks I have resisted the urge to pull their things out of the trunk and just wallow in their being...their existence. I have refused to put away the donation card from a friend because I know that once I open that trunk to do so, there will be no going back. I need to not feel for a while. At least that is what I have been trying to convince myself.

So I lie in the dark and listen to their breaths. The breaths of the two I love so dearly. And the imagined breaths of the two I cannot bring myself to love. Not right now.

And the tears slip silently down my face as I pray.

8 comments:

Lori said...

There are no perfect words to say in response to this poignant outpouring of words and emotions. I will just say that you are not alone, and you are in my prayers.

Anonymous said...

Your words always touch that place inside ... and through my tears I nod my head and wish that I didn't know how true your words are.
all my love & care
Denise
xx

miraclebaby said...

all I can say is wow.

(((hugs)))

Aurelia said...

This is such a good post. Catherine, please know that you are not alone, I too have times when I don't feel like showing up at a gravesite. It can be just so hard...just not enough "enough" for me.

I will say that if you want to pull open the trunk full of their things and look at things and touch them, it might not be wallowing...just my opinion, but it might make you feel better somehow.

Whatever you do, I'll be here reading and holding your hand through the net.

:) n said...

oh my sweet beautiful friend. i love you dearly kate. i think of this bit from a poem i read years ago and think of you daily.

"When a long-desired
baby is born, what
joy! More happiness
than we find in sex,
more than we take in
success, revenge, or
wealth. But should the same
infant die, would you
measure the horror
on the same rule? Grief
weighs down the seesaw;
joy cannot budge it."

much love to you- n

pipsylou said...

Nothing to say. Just know I am here. I know it's not enough, but it's all I have.

Jill said...

I wish your nights were not so dark (((hugs)))

kate said...

A beautifully written post...and i wish there was more i could say than that....(((((hugs)))))