It is a weird and different experience for me to have so much of my support group also dealing with the same sadness I have. This is what it felt like for them when Maddie passed away. I miss the days when we were connected by crushes and classes instead of heartbreak and grief.
I am falling to the routines of every day. Actually, the only thing “routine” about our every day is our bedtime ritual (wash hands, face, brush teeth, change diaper, brush hair, read a story, sing a song, crib time). The rest of the time, Annabel is maddeningly, wonderfully unpredictable. Some days she wakes at seven am ready for the day, other mornings I have to literally pull her out of bed at eleven am. She’ll change her clothes four times before breakfast, or she’ll scream if I even think about removing her princess dress for something more practical.
She lives in the moment. That seems so amazingly lucky. All she cares about is what she is experiencing right this very minute – what she’s eating, wearing, touching. How her voice sounds or what her reflection is doing. There is no worry about what will happen next; there is only NOW.
Sometimes I really wish I could be as innocently self-centered as my two-year-old. I would love to throw a tantrum and then get sent to my room for an hour. Being an adult sucks sometimes.
Annie walked into my office with a scarf wrapped around her and said, “Look, Mama! Annie funny.” In that moment, she wanted me to laugh, and I did. I could definitely use more of these moments.
Pgoodness says:
I was just talking to someone the other day, wondering when we lost our live in the now, say what we think selves. I’m glad Annie knows when you need a laugh – she is an amazing little girl and I’m so happy you have her.
Jenn says:
Hey Heather,
I often think the exact same thing!!! Ignorance CAN be BLISS!!! If only we all could just live in the moment however, I think life stole that from us…all.
I’m sorry for what you are going thru. It’s not fair but none of it is, is it? I so wish things were different ALL THE WAY AROUND….for EVERYONE!!
I guess the best you can do it simply take it one day at a time and when things get really scary and rough, 1 second at a time. It sucks…no doubt about it….it SUCKS BIG TIME!!!!
I think of you OFTEN, wish good things for you CONSTANTLY and will support you and your family ALWAYS!!!
Jenn xo
Mary says:
You have many of us supporting you in spirit and, while I know that is not the same as having a person with whom you are close be there to hug you and remind you that you are loved, I hope it offers some level of…well, of something. I was going to say comfort, but it likely doesn’t. Nothing is really comforting in these kinds of things. I’m sorry that it’s a junky time for you and your family and friends.
Colleen says:
I think that is why we have been blessed with our children (or pets or any living being) that live in the moment.
For that moment, we are also lost in their oneness with the here and now.
I cannot begin to count the times when overwhelming sadness in my day has been trumped by a baby’s laugh; a kitten’s antics; a dog’s loyal and loving ways; a child’s innocense; watching birds flying in and out of a nest they built in the eave of our playhouse; or the vastness of the sky above …
Take those moments and savor the peace of heart that comes with them. When life’s blows are all encompassing, we all need to enbrace our Inner-Annie.
I am sorry your heart is hurting.
Terri says:
Annie will keep you afloat during these sad days. Just hold on to her and keep smiling for that sweet girl. They know more and sense more than we can imagine, and I’m sure she will keep her Mommy smiling with her antics. I had a very unwanted hysterectomy a couple months ago, and have been so sad. If not for my little 3 year old girlie I would still be in bed with the blankets over my head. She is my life preserver.
Madi says:
I totally “get it.”
I’ve never envied the kids (because they will grow up into adults who will experience worry and heartbreak and so forth), but I **have** envied my cats in this way.
No matter what’s happening in my life, their life remains stable and happy. There’s no worry about work, or health or how they’re going to find the money to pay a bill. Life is lived in the moment and it consists of sitting in the window, basking in the sun, sleeping, eating, cuddling, playing. If only my life was this simple and worry-free.
Yep. I envy my cats.
Madi
Lisa says:
Our children allow us, for just a moment, to go back to that carefree life of living in the moment. Let Annie make you smile and laugh, live in the moment with her for a just a moment to help you through your dark days.
momttorney says:
I laid in bed last night after reading your prior post thinking of you, and just imagining (though, I really can’t because I haven’t been there) your pain. I really, really hope this patch of dark clears soon, and I am so very happy you have sweet Annie beside you.
I’m not sure that I’m going to be able to articulate this well, and I know you probably hear often about the mark your Maddie left on the world, but I want to share with you how she’s very much alive (in spirit) in my home. I have a three year old with cerebral palsy. She can’t walk, and she goes to 6+ therapy appointments a week (occupational, physical, speech, etc.). Sometimes, when I think I’m drowning in the therapies, doctor’s appointments and the fear of the future, I picture your sweet girl. It is a reminder to me to focus on what is . . . right now, and not worry about what isn’t. I think about what you said when you spoke in 2009 at the March for Babies event (which was our first walk) . . . that Maddie handled the breathing treatments, etc., with grace, as if they were just “minor inconveniences on her way to conquering the world.” When I think of that, somehow, I know that I too have to keep going, with grace, even through worry and wonder. And, I try to think of all of my girl’s struggles as “minor inconveniences.” Your Maddie may not be physically here on earth, but her spirit is very much alive in my life and in my home, and gives me the courage to keep going just when I think I can’t keep going anymore. To focus on what is, not what isn’t, and to live in the right now.
I still wish, for you, though that YOUR girl didn’t have to be the one to show me this. That she was still on earth, right beside you.
Her life meant so much to so, so many, including me, but of course I wish she’d been allowed to stay a little longer on earth, because no doubt, she would have continued to make her mark on the world with her amazing smile, beautiful curls and her grace.
Thinking of you. And thank you for sharing your story, even when I know it must be so hard to sit and write. Your story has helped this mama in so very many ways.
Pattie says:
My heart is breaking for you, Heather. I’m sorry you feel so adrift these days. Although I, like you, am thankful that you have little Princess Annie to pull you to shore.
Tammy M. says:
I am so glad you have that sweet face to make you smile during this tough time. I remember when my mom was ill, I would rock my baby girl and cry. It helped having my little ones to love because they were so innocent and obliviously happy.
Jacquie says:
I’m sorry for your pain, Heather. I hope you have many moments of laughter in between your tears.
Glenda says:
My kids are my life preserver. They keep me grounded and I’m thankful for them every single day.
I hope Annie continues to make you laugh especially during the moments you need it the most.
Peace & strength
xo
Elizabeth says:
It is truly adorable how mich she looks like Mike!
So sorry you are going through this. I will be praying for you all.
MichelleM says:
I’m so sorry you have to go through this. I cannot imagine losing a child and I know my whole world would turn black if I did. I really admire your strength to get up every day and care for your family. You have a great sense of humor about things, too. I just love Annie – she is so dang cute and is such a little character. I love her diva outfits and faces in the mirror! I’m so glad you share her with us. How cute and sweet that she wanted to make you laugh. I have a two-year-old daughter as well, and while this age can be challenging, I really love the innocence and unpredictability of it. When my daughter tries to make a joke it just melts my heart.
I’m so happy you have Mike and Annie, and I know that we will all never forget Maddie’s beautiful face of an angel. I’ve read your blog since she died and I always marvel at her beauty. I know that your pain can never, ever go away because nothing could ever fill the void she left, but I do pray that you find happiness and healing. Sending lots of hugs from Iowa!
Trisha says:
Even on the very worst of my days my kids can make me crack a smile and laugh out loud.
Sending lots of love and virtual hugs from Florida!
G says:
Heather,
I feel your pain through your writing. I am praying for you.
Karin
Lanie says:
I wish for that innocence as well. I wonder when exactly it is lost. I know for sure that anything resembling innocence was gone when Jake in my case ( and Maddie in your case) died.
I am so glad that you were able to have that moment of laughter. Sending you hugs and peace. Take care. xo