To those who say not to let my grief define me, I say, “Why not?” Our everyday experiences shape who we are. So why not the extraordinary ones that rip our hearts open? A heart that knows mourning is tender not only to its own aching but to that of others. I think that’s a good thing.
Today marks 4 years and 3 months since Calvin’s birthday. Yes, I’m still counting. Yes, I’m still grieving. And, yes, I’m still standing, but a better person by having carried him.
Happy 51 months in heaven, Calvin. Because of you and your sisters, my broken heart has more to give.
“To the woman who possesses a life giving heart, broken wide-open for the child she loves.”
For all mommy-hearts, whether you hold, miss, or long for your children, whether your kids were born from your womb, your heart, your friendships, or your occupations.
Sometimes the words get so jumbled and mixed up with everything that you’re feeling and wanting to express that you need to distill it down into as few syllables as possible.
This is for my paternal grandmother, my Mama Sue, who passed away unexpectedly last week.
Suzuko Kondo Zapanta
(August 1, 1934 – March 13, 2012)
Lotus flowers bloom
to swallow the falling rain
Mama is smiling
I’ve decided to participate in NaBloPoMo (National Blog Posting Month), a daily blogging challenge that offers a theme and prompts to guide you along the way. This month’s theme is “Between,” which goes perfectly with how I’ve been feeling and where I find myself: between hope and despair, between love and fear, between trying to conceive and holding a living child in my arms.
For Day 1 of this challenge, I decided to design my own badge for this month’s theme. I took this picture at a coffee shop where my support group used to get together after our session at the hospital was over. It gives me such hope to look at that little flower reaching through a gap in the wooden boards and through the chain link fence.