my fingers tap and reach out through the ethers to try to connect. this internal landscape can be so isolating.
i breathe in and out. i can feel the mark of nathaniel's life and death in my lungs and heart.
i mourn. i wake every morning at 5:30 and journal for about an hour. i scratch out the anger and the rage and the jealousy and the despair and the gratitude and the grace and the fear and the love. i keep a close eye on the wound and probe it, try to keep it clear of debris. i treasure the honesty and truth nathaniel's life brought me. i hate the honesty and truth nathaniel's life brought me.
i take mourning seriously. it has seriously kicked my ass.
i draw almost every day to escape the limitations of words and sentences and to spend time with nathaniel.
i went to vancouver bc over the long weekend - just me and my living son. i laughed - honest, genuine laughter. i only cried a little, in the mornings. yesterday, on our drive home, i was struck at the realization that i hadn't been thinking about nathaniel, his life, his death, loss, or grief, for several hours. it was the first time that happened. i think about nathaniel all of the time.
i've planted hundreds of vegetable seeds this spring and nurtured them under lights. i reflect a lot on the miracle and wonder of what lives and what doesn't and why. my yard used to be lovely, but now it is an urban experimental farm.
i have not gone back to work. my work insurance coverage has lapsed because i don't have plans to go back to work. i don't know when i'll be ready.
i'm not pregnant, not ttc. many in my cohort of loss, both on-line and irl, are either pregnant or actively ttc. i go to real-life support group and there are all new faces. the other parents who lost when i lost have graduated to the subsequent pregnancy group. many of my internet pals are either pregnant or ttc, and their journeys are now informed by pregnancy and new babies. i feel like i'm stuck in remedial grief, and frankly, i'm afraid. there doesn't seem to be an easy way forward. . .
i am changed because of nathaniel, in ways that i can try to describe and in ways that i can't. i'm both more bitter and more loving, more open and more closed. i'm more agitated, and i am not yet more peaceful. i am changed in that i kiss more people. i am not afraid to take pretty much anyone in my arms and plant my lips on their face or their lips. i kiss more people than i did a year ago. i want to.