If we had been quarantined in a world that still had Sonzee I would be participating in family handprints with cute little sayings about being stuck together. I would be trying to find a photographer to stand on the street in front of our house and take pictures of our family being us in the driveway. I would be figuring out every unique opportunity that was around and succeed in making it happen. However, quarantine was late, or was it Sonzee was gone too early and now the thought of making permanent memories in her absence crushes my already broken heart more than I thought was possible.
That's the thing I am learning about this grieving journey. Some days can still get worse, it is actually possible to have an already broken heart shattered into smaller pieces. I assume the struggle between parenting Sonzee's siblings while honoring her absence is going to feel insurmountable at times and at other times doable. I assume there is going to be a constant give and take and an alternating sacrifice between which side will be honored. I assume I will eventually find a way to compromise in a way that still leaves my heart yearning for what could have been, but comforted by the way it all came together.
I cannot stomach leaving her handprint out of our family, but I don't have her here to add it in. It hurts to have a family picture without her face distantly looking off. There is already excruciating pain to have to accept that she isn't here, but then to have it be in my face while looking at an image or on paper seems like it will be a punch to my gut every time. I know there are various ways to incorporate her into every project, but it hurts that she isn't here to be involved, and it hurts to have to settle.