Post 29 of 66

Summer. The most beautiful and fun time of the year. The sun, spreading its light and warmth all over my skin. The bees, buzzing over every flower that blooms, filling their tiny pockets to make that sweet thing called honey. The pollen, travelling through the wind, landing on my hair every now and then. Butterflies, frolicking around in the sunshine, dancing to the sound of the wind, dancing to the melodies of life. That clear blue sky, with that tiny fluffy cloud drifting by.

I love summer. How it fills so many lives with joy. A cold drink outside. Watching kids play. Firing on that barbecue. Having friends over. Going for a swim. Eating ice-cream. Laughs. Joy. Happiness. Summer.

I get up in the morning, go out to our terrace, look around, and think to myself: Thank you for this beautiful day. To whomever who may hear me, but always hopeful that Sahar can hear me, that she can see us, that she watches over us. I go back in and give my husband a sweet embrace. Let’s enjoy summer, I tell him. Even if it hurts to do so.

So we try. We try to enjoy every ray of light, the sight of every butterfly dancing around us, appreciating that buzzing bee that’s taking on that bush of lavender, every ray of light that brightens our day… Every sign of life, brings a little bit of healing to our broken hearts. Every evidence of blooming life, restores a little bit of hope in our shattered souls.

But still, I can’t stop wondering, how incredibly beautiful, magical and lovely summer could have been. It could have been filled with hope. Filled with impatience to meet our little girl as she would be approaching her due date by now. Filled with a bit of anxiety, awaiting that first-time labor. Filled with bliss, with every move and kick I’d feel. Filled with baby-girl clothing, cute decorations, and that hospital bag lying ready by the front door… Filled with curiosity, imagining who she would look like the most. Filled with love, for this wonderful life, growing inside. I would have a countdown-app on my phone that I would fire up every day. Today it would have said 45 days left

I can’t help but experiencing a mixture of feelings. Joy for the summer. Love for my baby girl. Grief for her passing. Emptiness in my arms. Cracks in my soul. Everything has a double meaning, a double feeling to it. And I guess it forever will. It’s part of this life after loss I’m learning to live. Exploring these new thoughts, giving myself the space to truly experience these feelings, is a way of reinventing myself. Allowing myself to explore. Allowing myself to see. Allowing myself to live. Allowing myself to be.



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1 comment:

Loving an angel instead… | The backpack01/09/13 at 2:07 pmReply

[…] with children and adolescents dragging around their heavy backpacks. It also announces the end of Summer. I had envisioned this month as the most beautiful month of my life as our girl was about to be […]