Wednesday, October 1, 2014

In the fright of Twilight

"In the fright of twilight the sun always appears"  
I don't know who wrote this nor do I remember when I heard it  but I remembered it this morning.  

This morning I drove out to the cemetery.  It was still dark so I parked and waited for the sun to rise on this day, October 1st.  Today marks the beginning of a lot of things - Breast Cancer awareness month, Fall, Halloween season to name a few and today all of those seem irrelevant.  Its not that I don't care about those things its just that the season that begins for me tends to overshadow most things.  Today marks the month that my child was born.  The month that we found out he was ill and the month that I knew he was going to die. Today marks the beginning of a grieving season I can't run away from.

Its been 10 years and its much the same as years past.  The calendar stares at me like a blinking light, the smell of fall leaves breaks my heart and the happiness that everyone shows for the new season makes me mad.  I start to replay this entire month, 10 long years ago.   Monday marks the day he arrived in, what had to be, the most quiet and peaceful birth ever experienced.  It marks the day I nursed him, cuddled him, choose his name and fell madly in love. Its the day I knew something was wrong but told there wasn't.  It was the beginning of a life cut shorter than anyone hopes. It begins the month that I question natural order.  I cry, I scream, I love and cherish. 

This morning, as I sat in the cemetery waiting for light I watched the sky.  It was dark, dreary and scary pitch black.  Almost like a dream, the sun poked out of the sky behind the clouds. Slowly at first then fiercely but gently filling the sky with light.  It showed me my grief.  How time passes, the dark comes and goes and the sky fills with light again. 

At about the same time this evening twilight will come again, then sunset.  The sky will slowly and beautifully turn dark and the blackness will return.  This is for certain.  And, so will my grief.  And, tomorrow, the sun will break through twilight. 

In memory of all the babies who are loved and never forgotten...
Landon Leadstrom
The Jones Babies
Leah and Ava Austin
Lindsey Budden
Noah Aker
Ade Omni
Issac Wilson
Caleb, Lily and Titus Cowels
Abigail Hellmer
Laura Rosen
 Hunter Harles
Reece Engel
Easton Freidli
John Paul Recinos
Carston Frank
Baby Self
Baby Smith
Deacon Potts
Isabella Andrews
Emma Johnson

Carley Marie, a valuable part of the Bereavement Community, brought me to the sunrise today as a part of her project "Capture Your Grief".  Today is the only day I will participate publicly.  I must protect my heart.  However, I might share some, if my heart leads me to, on instagram.  If you feel moved to participate visit her project site @