meniscus

I entered her home and felt the energy...it was a female energy-there are daughters here. 11 years after loosing my daughter I just realize how my friendships feel better if they are mothers of boys rather than just girls. This house's energy was calm,  controlled and unusual for me.  

Later to have someone offer a gift thought of Violets for Violet tears in my eyes bulged but never fell.  The valve of heartbreak opened and I connected to the space.

                          Days without her name, without my daughter or her name hurt. 

Circles to Spirals

Stages of grief are said to be circular and "you will pass though them all at different times" this morning as I lay sideways looking at her urn I think denial runs in my veins. The self-help books can't be cracked, baths where I just look at my failed belly are not run, and my writing has slipped. I cant be alone and meditate or make art- too afraid to tackle my daughter died. The gusto that lively children and enthusastic fathering keeps all my world spinning if I were alone- it would still be me squat on the floor sequencing photos and medical reminders, ruminating and stirring. perhaps breaking free from denial is that act of addressing it- moving into whatever is next

Beans for dinner seemed easy until Calder smeared them everywhere and I let the brown dry and cake in spots the cloth didn't touch as I tried to wipe his face. Later for his bath, that brown became her blood that was behind her ears, the darkest blood and hurt. She let us wash it or try to when we bathed her because she had died. This was her only bath given by her mother and father. Violet's dark bruises stayed, his beans washed away.

I bought diapers today for a baby shower.
As I dressed today all I could think of was the day I dressed for my work shower given for Violet.
Of course the Orioles t-shirt found its way into my hands this morning, that day was to be just as hot. The shirt was stretched around my belly and she sat plumb inside me. At that time no one but kyle and I knew we were having a girl, so we got so many yellow clothes. Toys that still ring and rattle and books that she was supposed to help turn the pages of. I am wondering if this pack of diapers is a shot of luck or a step of growth for me. Either way my chocking hurt reminds me that this is an isolating world when your daughter dies.

Sent from Xfinity Connect Mobile App

Travel Size Urn

   Knowing that in a month we will be away for the holidays makes me wonder about this house

locks tight
shades drawn
and on that shelf
she will sit?

   How unfair and difficult to know that daylight will fade in this house on Christmas; as my daughter will just sit here in the cold.

The tackiness of connection

You put her name on something and I'll buy it or someone will buy it for me.

Timing

Wrists ache and 2 fingers feel sprained; there is a splinter that somehow still bothers my finger.

 I have been working hard on Violet’s garden preparing the space

Rather than buy gifts for her birthday, instead of thinking of decorations and what kind of cake to make or invitations to send.

I just pulled weeds, dug deeper holes and planned for what magic I could sprinkle in the space between root ball and dirt.

She was not watching me while I did this all for her/instead I was with her, connected deeper and truer than at any other time in my days.

Ending the day of work I wrapped the hose around the post and looking down saw what was shockingly hers/ours from 3 years ago; a piece of confetti used to decorate the table for one of my baby showers.