It is 4 a.m. and as I blankly stare at this screen I continue to ask myself why my deepest thinking has to come in the middle of the night or early morning. I have no answers and know that I will pay for it tomorrow. However, sometimes the emotional benefit far out-weighs the need for sleep. And lets be honest, who really sleeps with a five week in the house.
For awhile now I have been realizing my shadow still lingers. This became apparent to me when a good friend asked me how it was to remember Jacob and Caden now that Audra was born. This is the same friend who has walked so intimately with us during this time. She was the first one to the hospital the morning the boys died and she was the same friend who came to the hospital with three roses- two in remembrance of Jacob and Caden and one for Audra. There are very few who have stayed, continued to walk beside me and look to me and say “Alicia, I will not forget.” There are very few that ask about the boys simply because as humans we don’t know what to say- and sadly in the end- we say nothing, leaving a feeling of being forgotten to the ones who never forget. She is the same friend who walks with her own unspoken grief yet takes time to ask me these questions because she knows I need to think them. To her I am forever grateful and wish for everyone a friend like this.
I never did answer her completely as it often takes me awhile to process such questions. And as has I have come to realize my answers come in the form of what I like to call “mind-stunners.” These are the answers that slam us in the face and we are left with a stunned expression on our face and wonder why it took so long for it to become clear. I feel this is a fitting word as dictionary.com defines the word stun- “to deprive of consciousness or strength”, to shock; overwhelm.” So my “stunner” came tonight as I stood over Audra’s crib and realized with a force so full of grief that she would not be here if the boys had not passed on. The most heartbreaking thing for a grieving mother to realize is that you can’t have both. Somehow I want to hold on and let go at the same time. I will I know that I will never know my three children in this life- but I look forward to the day I do; A day I enter a life where I will walk with all three.
So I will end with a photo of Audra and anticipate watching her grow and awaiting the day she will be old enough to learn about her two older brothers and the day that I will walk with all of my children- hand in hand.
