Wednesday, July 8, 2009

A Step Back

A little more than 2 years ago

Tonight my mother heart is aching and I just need to get a bit of the ache out here on paper and out of my core. Sometimes this grieving thing is like taking two or three steps forward and then a giant step back. I have felt that today. I am not sure if it is the time of year or just because it has been a while and the grief barometer is on the rise. Whatever it is, I have been feeling like I am floating lost in a jumble of emotions and I am struggling to stay emotionally and psychologically anchored by hope, joy, and gratitude.

I walked into Sabrina and Ann Marie’s room tonight to see if they were asleep and there was Ann Marie snuggled up to Sabrina in Sabrina’s bed. She was scared she might have a nightmare so she snuggled up with her big sister. It was so cute and heart warming.

A scene like the one I saw tonight but taken last year.

Then I heard Lauren awake – and alone – in her room. A wave of sadness hit me, sadness for her. She was supposed to have a roommate too. She was not supposed to have to be the odd man out.

I went into Lauren’s room and laid by her side and snuggled her. I will be trying my whole life to be the buddy she lost. I told her I was sorry she didn’t have a roommate. She said “Camille is mine.” Yes. She is.

Later in my own room I realized how there is no place in this house anymore that is “Camille’s” place. Before Noble was born I could go in the nursery and feel the heaviness of her absence. That was her room.

Now it is his room. It is full of boy things. It no longer feels like her room. And yet she never lived and slept and played in Lauren’s room so even though it would have been her room now it doesn’t feel like her room.

Suddenly I miss having a room just for her – a room where I can go and feel the density of the loss and the closeness of her presence. Now there is but a room in my heart – an empty room filled with memories and joy and aching.