Yesterday was my second born's birthday. She is ten.
Today is my niece's birthday. She is five.
In two days it will be Lenah's birthday. She is in heaven.
I will grieve.
And Ruby.
Four days after Lenah's birthday I will begin marking time for Ruby. One month since her...birth, death, I'm not really sure what to call that day. She wasn't really born and I don't really know the day she died.
I'd like to avoid the calendar. But I can't. There's always some appointment to attend. Some birthday to celebrate. Some event to observe. I have to check the calendar. I'd be in trouble if I didn't. But some days I'd sure like to avoid the reinforcement of the grief that I feel every moment that is not occupied by some other activity, or distraction, or sleep.
I wonder if everyday is like your birthday in heaven. Our observance
of one trip around our sun on the subsequent years since our birth
seems a bit... I don't know, arbitrary, mundane, insignificant,
when compared to Lenah and Ruby's daily trip around the Son.
Do grieving mother's ever stop keeping time? Do they ever stop counting the days, the weeks, the months, the years since the loss?
I guess time will tell.
