Past and future…but mostly just present.
I've been wanting to post for a few weeks but am finding it difficult to write. It seems as though all the happy times with Isla have been chronicled and what's left is her parents' depressing dribble. No one wants to read that! We are doing reasonably well but are so aware of the deep hole in our lives, the loss of anticipation, the bewildering sense of being physically stuck where we were two years ago but emotionally miles beyond. I told Dan last night that sometimes it feels like the memories I have of her are starting to fade, but the pain of losing her is exactly the same that it was the day she died. We look at pictures and watch videos every day, and are still seeking that balance between honoring her life and acknowledging the lessons from the past while accepting that we need to move forward into the future.
Life is now defined by mixed emotions. Several of our friends are expecting babies, including Dan's sister, who is currently roosting on Emmet's little sister, (ETA March 2014!) and the love and excitement we feel for them know no bounds. A friend of mine was due yesterday with her first baby and talking with her I hear her echo the same concerns I had before Isla arrived....what if I don't like her? What if she isn't too crazy about me? Do I really have to clean up poop and puke all day? It's a strange feeling to really empathize with these thoughts but lack the rose-colored glasses to reassure her, "you'll love her! She'll be your whole life! You won't even care about the poop!" without reflecting on my own loss. It's hard in grief to not make it all about yourself, to share in others' joy without holding back. I remember all the kindnesses, the cards, meals, hugs, gifts, gestures small and large, that made so much difference in our lives before, during, and after sweet Isla's, and I cherish more than anything the opportunity to pay it forward. I really do. So don't get spooked if I grab your newborn and shriek and laugh and sob and gaze in wonder all at once. I feel like all the emotions of Isla's life are on a constant loop in my mind, sometimes in fast forward. The constant ebb and flow of happiness and sadness mixed together can get exhausting, but I wouldn't trade the experience for anything in the world. I think anyone who has lost a loved one can relate. You spend a couple of hours laughing and crying over photos then remember you put dinner in the oven and it's burnt to shit. Life pulls you back into the present, even if it's just for a short time.
So, back to the present. I'm working on my dissertation, Dan has started paramedic school and will be working part-time at the VA for this semester. Remi is constantly starving to death, begging to play tug of war, or zonked out on the couch (we often say he only has two settings, pit bull ON and pit bull OFF). Charlie and Bumble are periodically escaping the backyard and jaunting around town, scaring the bejeezus out of us then showing up on the doorstep when they get bored and hungry. I'm trying my hand at some crafts, trying to create some Isla items that I ambitiously planned a year ago for her nursery. For those of you that know me, it's quite ambitious. I’m finding other ways to pay our sweet girl tribute. I could go on forever but my pasta water just boiled over. How apt and timely! Love y’all!
