I think I've said this several times before.. grief -- it evolves. it changes. you change.
there's a constant learning curve and findings. always new realizations. sometimes there's backtracking and still waters.. but each day it brings something new. that something new is not always welcome, but sometimes it is.
in my journey of loss and grief i have become this new person. this new being. i have learned so many great and not so great things about myself. my eyes have been opened, my heart has grown, and my ears have listened and heard more in these last 21 months then i think in my entire life.
why do i bring this up?
this place.. this space has always and solely been for Savanna. it's been my keepsake, my personal diary into this world of loss. my dealings and journeys through muddy waters and high tides. but now, my grief has shaped way into something more.
that's not to say that i don't still think of her. grieve her. miss her. yearn for her. but i have found that it comes to me without great effort. does that make sense? in the beginning, all i thought about was her. all i breathed and talked about was her. i would feel extreme guilt and emptiness when there were moments of realization that i didn't have thoughts of her.
but as days grew on, and time surpassed us, i realized it was a naturally occurring circumstance. i will admit she is not always the first thing i think about when i wake up, although she is always the last thing i think about.
i no longer force myself to remember her. i know her life, her very being is and always will be locked away into the pieces of my mind and heart. i will always carry her with me.
i think that's why maybe i don't write quite as frequently. what can i say that i haven't already said? what life-defining moment can i scrutinize and pick apart this time that i haven't already?
i've had to make choices that no parent, no mother should ever have to make. i've had to witness scenes that should never become a parents reality. i've had to watch the lasting whispers of life escape my sweet girls body. i've had to say goodbye.
at the end of the day, the piece that always has remained is that i miss her. and i love her. so completely and selflessly.
i still find my mind wandering into the distance of a dream--of a life still filled with her smiles and laughter.
this last week we went to visit some friends and their middle daughter asked me how old Savanna would be. I had to really think about it.. i knew she would be over 2 years old obviously.. but i didn't know what exactly the 'months' she would have been... 28 months though.. a 28 month old walks and says words. eats real people food and understands your words. and it just made me sad in that moment. imagining her running around with our dear friends girls.. what a troop they would be!
but i also realized in that same moment that it was OK that i didn't know the 'exact' month. for as long as i can remember i have consistently set an expectation on myself.. and in my grief it was no different. i expected myself to just pick up and move on.. and something happens that will always knock me back into reality.
i guess what i'm getting at is that while i have found this great joy in writing, it's purpose has changed. i have changed. this space is changing. so many choices i make anymore has it's roots set into my grief or into her memory. anything i do in any given day is somehow always linked back to her. what is it they call that? 6 degrees of separation? she is always with me in some way shape or form..
i don't know if i'm saying i am going to continue writing in this space or not. i want to. i really do. but half the time i stare at the screen and don't know what to type without seeming repetitive.
is this part of my ever evolving grief also? my chosen ways to cope and deal are evolving? perhaps.
so just bare with me as i try to figure it out. as i attempt to figure out how these pieces fit together.
i've never been good with change.. it makes me uncomfortable.. but i know it's all for good reason. there's always a light, always a silver lining.. even in the darkest moments. and i am a witness to that.