I've been hiding from my grief. It is hard to make time for it, but it shows its face now and then...
I look at Juliette, and I wonder... What kind of mother would I have been to Anya? What kind of mother would I have been if I hadn't lost Anya?
Would I love as fiercely? Yes.
Would I worry as much? Yes... But I imagine my feelings of worry would be naive and abstract as they once were. Now when I worry, it is a gnawing pain, a knowing ache of loss... Fear flashes before me as a deer in the headlights, and it is terrifying, if only for a moment.
Would William and Juliette be here today? Probably not. It makes me sad to think I could only ever have had Anya or William and Juliette. It makes me grateful I wasn't the one to choose... because William and Juliette are everything to me... Today, William and Juliette mean more to me than Anya does. I feel sad and guilty about that.
I also find that I am angry with myself, disappointed to face the same shortcomings as all parents... I feel like I should know better. Life gets busy and I forget the lessons Anya taught me about life and love.
I get impatient at silly things. I get lost in thoughts about dinner or work, when I should be paying attention. I don't play enough. But Anya taught me that this moment is precious... it could all be taken away in a moment. One day these precious moments will be gone...
I keep trying to simplify and be present. Though I know I will forget sometimes, I will try again and again to truly appreciate each day. Because that's all we can do isn't it?