Sunday, April 26, 2020


I’ve been sent spinning twice in 24 hours.  Both times it was as if I was standing in a dark hole while a circle of light spun around me taking me back in time.  Both times it lasted for a split second.  Both times I stopped breathing.  Both times I had to remind myself she was gone.  Both times felt like a smack in the face.

On Friday I came home from visiting Sonzee to Sam telling me to go to her room.  I washed my hands and stood in the kitchen longer than he wanted me to and prompted me again.  I detoured to her little brothers room to put something away and her older sister stood in the hallway facing Sonzee’s room, hands cupped over her mouth saying “oh my g-d Ema, you’re going to love this”.  Intrigued I walked now quicker into her room to find baby brother asleep in her bed.  Big sister then promptly says “but isn’t it unsafe, Ema?”  I removed the railing from the side of her bed about 6 weeks ago, there was no reason anymore for it and it hurt to see it there, but now her 2 year old brother lay in her spot.  Turns out he put himself there to read a book before nap time and Sam had gone to the kitchen to grab his milk and he fell asleep without him knowing.  About 2 hours later he was waking up in a cranky mood so I climbed into bed next to him.  I closed my eyes and for a split second I was back to the last 2.5 weeks of her life.  The same spot, next to a warm tiny body, except I opened my eyes and it wasn’t hers. Dagger to my heart.

On Saturday evening we went for a family walk and stopped outside my sisters house.  We talk through her front window which is tall and wide enough for both our families to see one another.  My niece excitedly runs to the window wearing an all too familiar nightgown.  I bought the nightgown last summer in NY for all of us girls.  “Matchy, matchy” with Ema and her girls. Except now pretty much all of Sonzee’s clothing is being worn by my niece.  So I see her in the nightgown and my heart skips a beat, “Wait! How does she have that nightgown that’s Sonzee’s” I turn my head around quickly behind me in a panic, as if we forgot her on our walk.

How did my mind forget?  What was it thinking? (I guess it wasn’t). Should I just be thankful this is the first time in almost 3 months it’s happened?? Should I expect it to occur more? Why all of a sudden now? My heart is already in the tiniest pieces and then these milliseconds of panic mixed with the idea she’s here break those pieces even more when I realize it’s just a trick my mind is responsible for.  Maybe this is the price to pay for “being in my grief”.  For allowing myself to begin to acknowledge the reality I have been trying to hide and escape from.  Maybe this is just all part of the process of the journey, I just wish it wasn’t as blind as the journey of her life was.

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