I haven’t written, lately, because words have felt hard. I haven’t written, lately, because my attention hasn’t been focused on you. And I want to apologize, because I remember those early days when I thought I would never stop thinking about you.
I miss those moments now, that time when I felt complete in my grief. Because now I yearn for community, and it’s missing.
I keep waiting for sunshine, for something to tell me life isn’t always blue. I live in shades of blue.
I live in constant fear of the person I would become if I ever chose to live without you. I’m not capable of living without you.
A father and son play on the beach. One of them squeals, avoiding the waves. It’s a bit warmer today. I wonder if the water is cold.
When I think of thankfulness, all I can think of is the time I had with you. The whispered conversations. The whoosh of your first movements. The tactile knowledge of your hands, and your face, and your very active feet.
This instinct for planning is painful to me. The best parts of my future are still achingly incomplete. I didn’t find him here because I carried him with me. I carry him and the world and the world is so heavy.
Resources
For Bereaved Families
For Friends & Family
For Expecting Parents
For Providers
For Pregnancy & Parenting After Loss
Printable Products
FREE Customizable Greeting Cards
Sea Glass Parenting
Sea Glass Parenting Home
Sea Glass Parenting on Instagram
Sea Glass Parenting Facebook Group
Sea Glass Photography Project
Sea Glass Writing
FREE Baby Loss Journal Prompts
Sea Glass Writers Forum on Facebook
Sea Glass Writing Course
Copyright 2016-2022
Terms & Conditions • Privacy Policy
