A year
A year ago my daughter was born, lived for 10 days in the hospital, and died. I've mourned, been fine, continued living my life, and mourned again. This month has been hard, on both of us, but I knew it would be. So many times I've found myself crying at a momentary thought. Anniversaries tend to creep up on you like that, I think.
Over the past year I've talked to a lot of different people about what happened. Some people are fine to talk with this about, giving plenty of personal support. Some people are a little creeped out, and want to change the subject. And then there are the people who take this time to tell you about god's love. Personally, I find that insulting. The assumptions that are behind this are incredible. Ok, I understand that the thought of someone you love, who has died, being cared for by some great loving entity might be seen as comforting by some, but not by everyone. Personally, the thought that my little fighter girl only got 10 days of being hooked up to a machine, poked and prodded and scanned, as her only chance at experiencing life... well, that's pretty damn horrible. As much as I miss her, I seriously hope that she has another chance at life, to fight the battles she wants to fight. To find love for a long lifetime in the arms and hearts of people who love her. To experience all the joys and trials of a full life. The thought that she will only ever have 10 days is a tragedy. The though that this was but one life experienced in a long line of different lives gives me a small moment of peace in my sorrow, some bit of hope.
Over the past year I've talked to a lot of different people about what happened. Some people are fine to talk with this about, giving plenty of personal support. Some people are a little creeped out, and want to change the subject. And then there are the people who take this time to tell you about god's love. Personally, I find that insulting. The assumptions that are behind this are incredible. Ok, I understand that the thought of someone you love, who has died, being cared for by some great loving entity might be seen as comforting by some, but not by everyone. Personally, the thought that my little fighter girl only got 10 days of being hooked up to a machine, poked and prodded and scanned, as her only chance at experiencing life... well, that's pretty damn horrible. As much as I miss her, I seriously hope that she has another chance at life, to fight the battles she wants to fight. To find love for a long lifetime in the arms and hearts of people who love her. To experience all the joys and trials of a full life. The thought that she will only ever have 10 days is a tragedy. The though that this was but one life experienced in a long line of different lives gives me a small moment of peace in my sorrow, some bit of hope.