There are a gazillion sacred spaces I keep just for her. One little sacred space in each and every one of the pieces of my broken heart. I know I will never be able to bring them all back together and see the big picture but I can let them shine one by one like the stars on a summer night.
At home, this is our sacred space, it might not look glamorous or shiny but I see it with my minds eye and it is beautiful 🙂
So today was suppose to be about meditating while we look at the full moon. But since the weather is all gloomy and there does not seem to be a full moon in sight I’ll just tell you about the last time I just sat and looked at the stars.
A month ago while sailing the Adriatic sea, Francesca’s dad and I laid back on the deck one night and took it all in. I remember how my hand felt in his and my voice whispering “I hope she’s ok”... and through the darkness his voice touched my heart as he said those words I really needed to hear “She is, my love, she is”. I’ll never forget that moment .. the moment I felt hope coming back to me. So wherever you are tonight, whether or not you can see the full moon hold on to hope and love… they will save you in your darkest times.
In the first two months after you had left this world I would not allow myself to go to bed unless I had lit a candle at the church near by, a little light for you to see and know that we love you deeply. So every night, no matter the weather I would walk to the church and light your candles through tears and whispered prayers. At some point people were telling me this had to stop but my heart was telling me otherwise. So I kept on walking the same path up until my broken heart figured it out all on it’s own that I could keep this candle burning inside of me for it to light both my darkness and your way home.
While the wave of light travels the world tonight, you will also have your special little candle burning but know this my sweet ballerina, if ever the wind blows out your candle or rain pours down on it, the light in my heart will always burn for you.
My dearest love,
Five years ago today I was unsure… Unsure I would have a good hair day, unsure of walking in those damn five inch heals shoes , unsure I would look pretty enough, unsure I was good enough for you … but I was never unsure of wanting to marry you… You, the man I fell in love with more that ten years ago, the man whose blue eyes mesmerize me every time I look into them, the man who still kisses me with the same passion he did the very first time, the man whose embrace makes me feel safe even in my darkest hour… I was never unsure of that.
This has been an interesting road we’ve been walking for the past five years … We have walked under beautiful blue skies and in pitch darkness but the only thing that matters is that we have walked side by side and that we never let go of each other and that is something i am thankful for everyday.
With you and because of you I have learned what true love is in all it’s sense… And I will never be able to thank you enough for this great gift that you have given me.
I have learned that love is not always smiley and joyful but that it can simply be your lifeline in your deepest sorrow and that is more important than all the smiles in the world.
On this beautiful day while sailing the Mediterranean sea together I can honestly say that I have no regrets. Do I wish we would be changing stinky diapers and struggling to stay awake after countless sleepless nights? YES!!!! But that does not mean I do not appreciate our love with everything I have or that I feel that it is not enough…
You, my love, have taught me what it means to be loved and because of you I have also learned what it means to love with every cell in my body. Our love has created more love and I love our love with everything I have…
Happy nannynursery my love…
Before my daughter’s existence split our life in two I used to see the world in pastel colors. The colors were muted and sometimes lifeless, a beautiful pale girly pink, like the one for ballerinas … my ballerina. I didn’t realize that life’s colors are not just pink and pastels but that it lies in front of us in thousand of colors unseen before.
Once we had Francesca I learned that the intensity of a color can even hurt your soul, that sometimes love’s red can shatter your entire heart and that the longing is the same color as the sea that drowns you. Other times life can be a non-color, it can be black and white or seventy thousand shades of grey, but somehow the colors always come back and intertwine with our heart revealing unsuspected feelings.
After Francesca was born I started noticing all these things and now the world lies in front of my eyes in colors that are much more intense. Now I realize what is important and I’m learning to appreciate every color that life gives me. I have learned that the intensity of a feeling can determine the intensity of the color that surrounds it. Continue reading “This is life in color”
More than a week after my birthday, I finally got myself to write these words. I don’t know why it took me so long, but it just seems like these “special” days are just too unbearable to think of.
For years and years my husband and I have celebrated my birth week, I would get presents everyday and my existence would be celebrated for seven days each year … it used to be sweet and lovable but this year I couldn’t even do it for one day…
The first and only thing I could wish upon when I woke up in the morning was for the pain to go away. But it cannot because this pain is the sign of unimaginable love, a love that fills my heart and makes my soul shine bright in the darkness of my life, a love that not even death can take away. Continue reading “Thanks Mom…”
Today we went to see a movie. It was the first time after saying goodbye to our baby girl. I found it only fitting that it should be a children’s movie… or so I thought.
As all bereaved parents surely know when you are in the depths of your grief everything you see, hear, read or watch is somehow connected to your child. You hear a song and connect it to your child, you see children on the street your mind flies back to your baby, you watch a movie and no matter what it is about you somehow manage to connect it to your baby … the mind works in mysterious ways.
Having said this, the movie we went to see was Alice Through The Looking Glass and it quickly made it to my favorite movies list. It has so much to offer both story wise and wisdom wise for in the end you are left with so many questions but also with a bittersweet feeling of enlightenment. Continue reading “Of Time and Other Demons…”
I proudly wear this invisible badge of honor, an angel shaped badge with tutu and pigtails. This badge states that I am your mother, that I love you with all my heart, that I miss you, that I wish you were in my arms, that I wish I could see your smile, that my soul is filled with great pain and longing and also that I am a super-mom because I can set one foot in front of the other even when you are not with me, because I can breathe even without being able to see your face, eyes or smile, because my heart still beats even if I cannot kiss your hands, feet or cheeks and above all because I can smile when I look up at the sky and know that you are alright.
All of us, angel moms, ware this badge of honor. Though invisible, this badge shines so bright it makes everyone around us turn their eyes away so that they do not get blind sighted. I wonder if they are afraid of our pain or of the fact that it is possible that they will never feel such a love in all their lives.
Continue reading “This Badge of Honor …”
A few years ago someone got us a puzzle, a very nice painting of a wild horse. The image itself is absolutely beautiful but I never had the courage to unwrap it up because I always found it impossible to assemble.
Now, in the midst of life after you and because I can’t find many things to keep my mind busy I have spread the puzzle all over our living-room coffee table. I began the assembly, as usual, by separating the edge pieces. They were the first piece drowned in my tears, but the puzzle never said a word about it, it does not criticize and does not hurry me up. He listens quietly and waits patiently for me to put together every piece of my soul that I find spread out in this reality that I still can’t get myself to accept. Some of the pieces don’t fit together but I keep trying and the puzzle is never cross. He waits patiently for me to realize that the shape or color of the given piece is not the one I’m looking for and then explains the same thing to me all over again as I desperately try to shove the same piece into another place where it does not fit. Continue reading “The puzzle of my broken heart…”