Today was a rough day. It was a day filled with every emotion tugging at each other, each fighting to make their presence known. My mind was playing chicken as I tried to organize my thoughts. It was a day filled with tears, laughter, sadness, anger, regret, guilt, and a dash of comfort and peace. Today we went to visit Savanna at her spot.
Pulling up to the cemetery I always get this panicked feeling, anxiousness that overtakes me. My heart feels like it's going to be ripped from chest, my hands won't stop shaking, my stomach feels like it's turning inside out, my skin doesn't seem to fit right. We pull in and drive up the steep paved driveway, past the chapel and through the gates. We wind around passing headstone after headstone of other loved ones who have been laid to rest. Of other family members whose stories I yearn to learn about. As I look across the field of stone and marble of greys, pinks, blacks I see Bogue after Bogue. (She's the seventh generation to be buried there.) We slowly creep to where her special spot is. The flowers from her funeral service have since browned and been taken away. And all that sat was a mound of dirt. A mound that signified that my little girl is gone from this earth. This was the first time I had seen it without all of the radiant colors of the flowers on top of it. And now it was just a mound, no color, no life, just a mound.
We came to have our little Christmas with her. J's uncle made a blanket for her. It has cedar branches from their land tied down to a piece of chicken wire framed by wood. Than poinsettas were placed throughout it. We laid the blanket across the top and stood there. We just stood there and looked. And all at once that tug-of-war, that chicken game began to take it's course. This is how we would spend our Christmases.. and in that moment the only thing that came to my mind was that 'this sucks!'
The wind was blowing and it was cold! I prayed to God to give me a sign, to show me that she was there watching over us. In that moment, I got goosebumps. And a friend once said to me "goosebumps are God's way of saying yes, or pay attention." And in the next moment the wind stopped for just a second and the sun seemed to glow a littler brighter, and for a brief moment I felt a warmness radiate through my body from the top of my head to the tip of my pinky toe. I felt some kind of comfort. And in that moment I knew she was there. But as quickly as that moment came it fluttered away like a butterfly being carried off into the breeze. And than I was there, standing again.. feeling all of those feelings, trying to convince myself it was going to be OK. That we would all be OK.
It just doesn't seem fair, so many people get Christmas after Christmas with their children and I can't even get one? I did everything right.. everything i was supposed to.. I followed all the rules.. took her to the doctor.. loved her unconditionally.. and yet, there I was standing at her grave. Of course I ask God what I did to deserve this.. But in my heart I know He does not punish. I get so tired of these conversations in my head. I want to move forward, I want to heal, but Just as I feel the wound has scabbed over and started to scar, it's ripped back open. It's a raw spot in my heart that won't heal. And I know with time it will get easier and more manageable. But I don't care, I don't want time, I just want Savanna. It's funny, people have asked me what I want for Christmas numerous times and you know the first thing that ALWAYS pops in my head? "I want Savanna back" But we all know that in this earthly world, that won't happen.
What I do know is that somehow, this will make me stronger, a better wife, a better mother, a better friend, a better listener, a better child of Christ. I'm still waiting for the moment, but I know it's coming. I feel that God has now paved a path for me. I path that I intend to travel. Through my experience, heartache, and sorrow I can help others. Others who may not have a support system when they have lost a child. Others who do not find the strength in Christ to encourage and lean on in these most horrendous and difficult times. I have been given a gift. And I intend to share it with the world. I don't know exactly how I am supposed to, but through prayer, faith, encouragement, and my baby girl guiding me alongside the Lord, I will find it.
Dance with the angels baby girl..