Three years ago today was the funeral.
I never imagined in my wildest dreams that I would ever attend a funeral for my own child.
Three years later I can still smell the mist from the ocean and feel the breeze on my skin. I remember feeling confused. The casket just seemed too small to fit both my girls. It was like I forgot just how tiny they were.
I just sort of phased out that day. I held their memory book and told the same story over and over to anyone who would listen. I stood at their grave side knowing that life as I knew it was over. I didn't want to leave but I knew I couldn't stay.
Somehow life has gone forward. And I did leave. Just like I left the hospital the day they each died. I was good at making myself leave, but only in body. My heart stayed for quite a while, first lingering in the halls of the NICU and eventually to the edge of their little plot. All this time my heart has been just waiting for them, missing them. It honestly wasn't until my most recent visit to the cemetery that I realized I had left my heart there for all this time.
I don't know how to move forward without them. At least not as a whole person. That is my new goal this year though; to recollect all the pieces of myself and learn how to be whole again.
As whole as I can be all things considered. It is a lofty goal. But you know me, I'm into lofty goals.