8 years old

I am sitting down on my couch
to write this post
not knowing where it will take me.

It’s been so long since I have regularly blogged
but something keeps pulling me back
to write
on
my baby girl’s
birthday.

Today marks 8 years.

Eight years.

It is starting to feel like a long time ago.

Malou Amelia
lives with me every day
so she feels close to me
but the raw emotion
and the feeling
of losing her feels like it happened a long time ago.

And I guess it did.

Today
is the first time her
birthday
has felt like a day to remember
What Happened
rather than
a Birthday.

I can see that in how I wrote this post…

I haven’t even written
Happy Birthday, My Darling Girl!

Somehow
I don’t think she minds.
It has never been about the day she died (May 26th)
or the day she was born (May 28th)
or the day of her funeral (June 7th)
or the day we buried her (July 4th)
or the day she was due (July 24th)

but it’s always been about her.
Her beautiful, innocent soul
and
the transformative power
she has had over my life.

It’s about
the intense, all consuming love and pride
I have felt being her mother,
which I have felt since the day I found out I was pregnant with her (November 18th, 2007).

Dates have always meant something to me.
I’m not sure why.

But I know I am entering
the Season of Malou
where she is on my mind
even more
than usual…

No one knows
how much I see her and feel her
in every single part of my life.

I have integrated it into the way I live
so I honestly don’t notice it anymore.

It feels natural to think of her,
and see her beautiful face in my mind
in even the most mundane situations.

I wouldn’t mind sharing with anyone who asks
but I no longer need to share
the how and why
that a smell or or a specific street or a type of bird or a song or a glimpse of my sons or niece or nephew
bring me right into a memory of my girl.

Back when I wrote this blog regularly,
I needed to share.
And you were all here listening and holding me up.

I am still so grateful for that.

And now I am continuing on a path
leading me further and further
away from the day I saw
Malou Amelia’s face
but at the same time
I believe with all my heart
also leading to the day
where somehow
I will see her again.

In the meantime
I am trying to live my life
in a way that honors all the
Malou Amelia
taught me:

I try to
*Be compassionate with others and myself*
*Focus on the good and fill my heart with love*
*Let go and forgive the mistakes of others (and myself)*
*Be open and vulnerable*
and always ready to
*Connect with people*

Today
when we visited
Malou’s grave
we walked past a man
planting a tree in a nearby cemetery plot
and had a wonderful conversation.
We connected with him over the love we have
for the people no one else can see.
Over the fact that love and connection doesn’t die
just because a heart stops beating.

The thing is, though,
I fail.

I fail every day at being the person I would want
Malou Amelia
to see.

My messy, imperfect life
is full of failure and impatience and tears and insecurity and worry.

But messy and imperfect means
my life is also full and that I am willing to take chances on something new
even if that risks failure.
And my impatience means there are opportunities to learn and forgive,
and my tears mean there is passion and emotion,
and my insecurity and worry means I am always
trying to to do best.

I feel this blog post coming to an end
and yet I am not sure
if I have said what I want to say.

That’s a change.
Usually this blog
as helped me process things
and every post
has led me somewhere I needed to go.

Maybe that means today
– 8 years out –
I am beginning to find full peace and acceptance
in what has happened
and therefore
I have less of a need to process things as such.

I am not sure.

But I am sure
Malou Amelia
was meant to be my daughter.
And I wish more than anything our life
turned out differently
and she was here with us
and I woudn’t have to answer Liam’s questions
“But why did she die?”
over and over…
because there is no good answer.

And when there is no good answer,
an inquisitive little boy will keep asking the question
trying to make sense of it.

Someday
he too
will come to the conclusion
that there is no sense in it
but there is still

beauty
and
value
and
worth
and
love
in the short life
that was his sister’s.

Happy 8th birthday, my darling girl!
My entire heart is filled with love for you, now and forever. I hope you are safe and happy and content and completely surrounded by
peace and love.

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Published in: on May 28, 2016 at 22:02  Leave a Comment  

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