03 May 2014
The light was pouring in
Angels by my side
Stillness in the air.
I gazed down on her peaceful sleep.
for what seemed like a long time
taking in her peace, her beauty, the sun, the moment.
Then,
the stillness became…
Well, too much
No movement at all.
Where is her breath? I thought to myself
as I watched her ribs
for movement
Reaching down to stroke her back,
Making contact,
Instantly, I knew.
I felt it in the rigidness of her flesh.
Cold, wooden.
Death had visited
My baby no longer connected to her body.
The month of May, in the great white north, is full of new life, green, and hope. At least for most people.
This May marks 4 years since my little girl died. I keep thinking it is going to get easier. Death. The cessation of living. Grief. And living through it moment by moment by moment. My tears are cleansing. I feel better after a good cry. Writing poetry is therapeutic. With that said losing a child is not for the weak of heart. The pain is deep, and often raw.
As I travel though my moments and travel through grief I see different stages come and go. I just continue. This week I have been in a deep sadness- and I am trying to explore it with curiosity and without judgement.
