Monday, July 10, 2017

Motherhood and Grief

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?




4 comments:

  1. Thank you for sharing your thoughts and feelings with the world. Guilt is such a hard feeling to have when it's sitting hand-in-hand with grief <3

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  2. I find it helps me, in these long journeys of grief, to remember to be kind to myself too. No one can live a truly present life every day. But when you hold onto your memories of the person who is gone, and come back to them, and the lessons they taught you, then you are weaving that thread into the fabric of your life, and honouring her. Not every second, but coming back to it like a touchstone so your memory of Anya grows and changes and stays with you anyway - which is how someone lives on.... xxx

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