On a morning that thrilled with the hum of routine, my heart knew it was different. Day 135. One hundred thirty five days of waking up feeling like Christmas as I float in to scoop up the warm snuggly smile that awaits me beneath rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes. Handfuls of days to smell his sweet skin and feel tiny fingers wrap around mine. Four and a half months that feel like a lifetime that I cannot imagine any different, but four and a half months to remember what a painfully short amount of time that is.
April 26th, my beautiful Colby Grayson was the same age Ellianna was when we held her as she drew her last breath. Another morning we had awoken, expecting ordinary.
Earlier in the week I tried to imagine... two days left... what if I had known? What would I have done?
While I may have paused to let my lips memorize the feel of her skin, or rocked her through the night instead of putting her in her own bed because I was exhausted, deep down I'm glad I didn't know. I was present in those days before we lost her, instead of worrying what it would be like without her. I let myself imagine who she would be, instead of wondering what would be her very last outfit.
No matter how long the time... days, months, hours, it would have always been too short. It reminds me of the song "The Dance" by Garth Brooks... "I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance." I'm glad I spent those four and a half months imagining my lifetime with her, instead of bracing for the reality ahead.
Day 136 I lifted Colby out of his bed and breathed in every memory I could. I smiled, I cried, and I whispered a prayer of thanks that I got to hold him in my arms this day...and the next, and the next, and the next.
Please leave me a comment; it lets me know you're listening!
You make me bawl like a baby . . . ((hugs))
ReplyDeleteHannah, it's so hard to see this pain in mothers like you and my daughter, Christy. We were each given someone so special, Ellie and Delainey. My breaking heart is breaking still.
ReplyDeleteOur only girl, Delainey, our only daughter/granddaughter. Twenty-three months and one day. It was never going to be enough time with her.
This week is so hard. Christy's birthday without her daughter. Mother's Day without her daughter. My only granddaughter. God, how it hurts! The ache in our arms to not hold her, the sad, swollen eyes that can't look upon her beautiful angelic face, no more kisses and hugs and the soft feel and smell of her sweet skin.
It's so hard.