There is always
If I want peace and quiet, I go to hot yoga and lose myself for 60 minutes...it seems I can never get there more than 2-3 times a week when I should probably go every day.
And the days just go...
But even so, I find its May.
May. And the year? 2014.
How has it been 6 years since we have moved here and this whole thing began?
To anyone who has had a child die, I will say that we have finally established our "new sense of normal." And yes, its taken 6 long years. But I can finally say that I am happy.
That is something that I never thought I would feel again.
And even though I am happy, and loving my children and my life...
the grief is still there.
It still sneaks up, surprising at times.
Today I went to the store and the cashier announced my total: $17.19
Those aren't just numbers to me.
They are forever tattooed on my soul as Will's days: July 17: his birth and July 19: his death. Why those numbers? Why together? And why today?
Or last week when I was at hot yoga and the teacher was guiding us in our breath and talking about its meaning (as they do a lot) and she used this analogy of watching a loved one sleep or watching someone else breath...
And my mind immediately went back to those 52 hours in the NICU and watching my sweet baby's chest rise and fall. I watched him breathe and pleaded with God to heal his lungs. He was so beautiful and perfect and yet on the inside there was something broken. And as everyone found their breath in class I was suddenly struggling for mine as tears streamed down my face.
And so it remains with me.
Nearly six years later. On the outside I may look put together again...and happy. Hell, I even wear mascara again.
But something, will always inherently be broken.
And I'm okay with that.