a ocean for mothers day

I think grief is like the ocean. .. Powerful and constant. It comes in and goes out. Sometimes a storm passes and it becomes violent and dark. .. sometimes it is calm and peaceful. But it is always moving, always changing, and you have to keep kicking or you will drown. That can be exhausting..

I don’t want to drown. I don’t want to be pulled too far out from them.. my shore. 

my reason.. my them..
my reason.. my them..

I made it through another mothers day..  I woke up to that swollen feeling in my eyes that let me know I was crying in my sleep. My mind is merciful in forgetting  what I was dreaming about..

The day was good. Blemished and bruised but so very beautiful. I am grateful to this blog for that. By digging and releasing I was able to be open to the beauty of the day versus just obsessing on the fear and dread of the pain of missing Jennifer. .

Finding less time to blog means it opens me wider.. and deeper and recovery takes longer. But in this case that was a gift. From all of you who choose to read and choose to care. Because I needed to still be raw and vulnerable to absorb the day.

And to accept her gift. Its too personal.. Im not sure I am ready to share it.. But my Jennifer sent me a message after I published this blog. To let me know she hears me .. that she feels me.. and I just maybe she was trying to say she forgives me.. But it scares me to trust that still.. Because I dug in.. and succumb to my darkness I was able to feel the warmth of her light.

The first mothers day I was celebrated. I was so grateful. I asked Tony to take pictures of me holding her while she slept. .. so I wouldn't ever forget.
The first mothers day I was celebrated. I was so grateful. Deliriously happy. I asked Tony to take pictures of me holding her while she slept. .. so I wouldn’t ever forget.
Without remembering my first year I repeated the same thing... I relished the time holding my sleeping babe in my arms on mothers day and took a picture.. so I would always remember.
Without remembering my first year I repeated the same thing… I relished the time holding my sleeping babe in my arms on mothers day and took a picture.. so I would always remember. Notice her hand gripping the picture of her biggest sister. ..

My 4 living loves came to our room with their Daddy. They sang to me.. They took turns showing me the creations they made for me.. And they just loved me.. in the simple ways that 8 month, 2 year, 4 year and 6 years can. I felt it. I soaked it in and it filled me.

When they were done I cried. I couldn’t help it.. Nicholas asked why I was crying and Jonathan crawled up to me to hug me. I told them the truth. I was crying because I love them all so much. Because they made me feel special and loved.. and because I missed sissy.IMG_1974

Tony knows how much I have been struggling so he watched me. He studied me.. and he hurt for me. I watched him too..  he had his own waves to tread on mothers day.. For the daughter that would have helped him plan the day and make me breakfast .. and for his wife.. The one he fought so hard to make a mother.. to finally get to celebrate on mothers day. .. I remember the look in his eyes as I opened my gifts and when I wept. Of understanding. .. worry and of guilt.. His blue eyes exposing the ocean of grief that is his alone…

They all got it. Understood it and most importantly none of us dwelled on it. We allowed it.. and we let it go. Together.

The rest of our day was simple. Baking breakfast for my Mom and bringing it to her.. going for a walk.. snuggling and watching Willy Wonka while gorging on candy (perhaps we missed the message of the movie) and finishing up with dinner outside.

I felt both empty and full somehow. .. and I don’t think I could ask for anything more. Sometimes I want to quit this. I want to stop digging in.. stop finding my ache and sharing it. But then a day like that happens. .. that I know is because of the work I do on this keyboard. ..

This pain I express is not the top of the waves of my life, of my day to day .. but it is my undercurrent.  I keep it from sweeping me away and taking me over by diving in and kicking my way to the bottom.. Stirring it up and pushing back up. It buoys me back up higher when I resurface .. allowing me to take in a deep breath of fresh air and stay above the waves.. longer and longer.

you loved the ocean

you embraced its power

that lack of control has always scared me

but with your help

i am learning to swim in it

and love it.

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…until there is a cure..

 

6 Responses to “a ocean for mothers day”

  1. Happy Mother’s Day Libby. I hope you felt Jennifer that day and always. We love you all. ♡ LOVE4JLK ♡

  2. Your writing is beautiful and breathtaking. I continue to pray for angel visits..I hope she visits you often- LOVE4JLK💗💗💗

  3. She forgives you Libby. She never blamed you, just needed you and you gave her your ALL. She knew then, she knows now. You’re a mom to 5 beautiful children all of them love you! I think Jennifer needs you to grieve for her because if the grief wasn’t so deep you wouldn’t be changing the world! You and Jennifer are in this together, and she fights beside you. Happy mother’s day!

  4. I will always choose to care…your Jennifer opened my eyes and changed my life. Because of her, I found my passion: pediatric cancer awareness. I am forever changed. Beyond that, I see so much of myself in you…the way you mother your children. Grief is called “the final act of true love”. It is something that you will always carry with you. I carry the grief of losing my mom, who was also my life long best friend. Sometimes I think I will drown in it. It truly is just like an ocean. Beautiful and at times terrifying. You hit the nail right on the head, your analogy of grief being like an ocean is exactly what it feels like. Praying for you always. Oh how I wish I could take this pain away and bring your precious little brown-eyed beauty back to you.

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