©THE FEATHERS NEST 2019

LAYERS UPON LAYERS

February 4, 2019

Phew. It's been a while since I've sat down to write. Hopefully my words can piece together with all the thoughts I've been having today.

 

It's not that I've avoided the stillness of sitting to write, but as life continues it's easy to just go with the flow of it -- be busy when life's busy.

 

Distraction feels nice at times, but then it also comes with guilt and fears of not remembering things. There are a lot of opposing emotions that happen with that. 

 

 

I have a calendar hanging above my bedside table in our room. My mom bought it for me when I pregnant, for the year of 2017. It's one of those beautiful Anthropologie calendars. When October came around that year I flipped the page just like every other month -- but then I never flipped the page again. As my life stood still all I could do was leave that calendar frozen in time ...frozen on October 2017. 

 

Still to this day it hangs there. I pass it all the time and it's become something very casual to my eyes. But a couple weeks ago I was in our room and walked to my side of the bed and my eyes locked onto the calendar. I scanned it... and landed directly on October 4th. As I looked at that date I noticed it was on a Wednesday. For a minute I had forgotten. "How could I have forgotten that it was a Wednesday when I held my baby girl in my arms?!" It hit me like a ton of bricks. I started sobbing as memories of that day flashed in my mind. "It was a Wednesday, of corse it was a Wednesday!". The memories as fresh as the day itself, and I started to remember the Wednesday after Sage had past away so vividly... I remember thinking "Wednesday's will never be the same.". And as each week past slowly I counted each one ...1 Wednesday (it's been 1 week) ....2 Wednesdays (it's been 2 weeks) ....3 Wednesdays (it's been 3 weeks)...

 

But here I was, 1 year and 4 months down the road and I hadn't thought about Wednesday's like that in a long time.

 

That was one of those guilt moments -- feeling like life was moving far to fast. I just needed a moment to breathe and I raced through the archives of these last 16 months. Could time just stop for a few minutes?!? 

 

 

In my experience there are no "stages" to grief. It comes in layers and layers that never stop.

 

I meet with a grief counselor every week (coincidently on Wednesdays ☺). She is the most beautiful soul and I honestly don't know where I'd be without her help and support. Around Sage's first birthday last year she prompted me to look at my personal layers of grief and express them how ever I wanted. So I started a visual project that I've continually added to. It's something I know I'll share publicly in time because it's really helped me to remember and visualize every step I've taken on this journey.   

 

It can be hard to look back and really "go there" with the first months of grief. But for me, it always brings my baby girl closer.

 

Pain brings me close to her.

 

It's a bittersweet kind of love. 

 

I read this in one of my favourite books on grief this week and I felt it so deeply. I think I read it almost 5 times over because there was so much in it that spoke to me. It describes so much of where I find myself right now and I thought finish off this post with it...

 

BLESSING OF COURAGE

From "The Cure for Sorrow" by Jan Richardson

 

I cannot say

where it live,

only that it comes

to the heart

that asks,

to the heart

that does not turn away.

 

It can take practice,

days of tugging at

what keeps us bound,

seasons of pushing against 
what keeps our dreaming

small.

 

When it arrives,

it might surprise you

by how quiet it is,

how it moves

with such grace

for posessing

such power.

 

But you will know it

by the strength

that rises from within you

to meet it,

by the release

of the knot

in the center of 

your chest

that suddenly lets go.

 

You will recognize it

by how still

your fear becomes

as it loosens its grips,

perhaps never quite

leaving you,

but calmly turning

into joy

as you enter the life

that is finally 

your own.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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