Let Down

I was actually kind of looking forward to my angel's birthday in two days because it seemed I would be too busy working then being with family then going to my child's party that I wouldn't have to think.  Now, due to a pending storm, I'll have plenty of time to think and not much to anticipate but another day to suffer through.  And I'm feeling it hard.  I was fine earlier today.  Then thoughts of yet another refusal from a publisher, a long, hard week of small frustrations, and then this disappointment all hit at once. 

And now, I stare into the face of another birthday without her.  Another day of hollow acknowledgement that my arms are still empty.  That my rainbow never has never and will never come. 

Most of the time, I'm fine.  Most of the time, the blues don't get me down.  I can try to live in the gratitude for what I have rather than mourning for what and whom I've lost.  Much of the time, I feel like I've come a long way toward healing. 

But when those anniversaries strike, whether it be on the day or not, they strike hard.  And all the scabbing and peace I've built up to protect me from the pain peels away.  And I'm left with only the pain.  I'll probably be okay tomorrow.  I'll somehow survive the birthday.  The birthday that was supposed to be forever more a joint princess birthday party. 

But right now, it just hurts.  And it sucks.  And no amount of peace the rest of the time stops the pain right now. 

"Some days are like that, even in Australia."-Judith Viorst.

The Birthday Creeping Up

I'm trying to avoid thoughts of my angel's birthday, less than a month away.  It doesn't help that I'll be throwing my girl's birthday on that date.  It's hard now to plan one without thoughts of the other slinking through.  When we looked at the calendar before my angel came and got excited that their birthdays would be so close together, we had vague plans of princess parties for two.  Now, one is a day of death.  One is a day to celebrate life.  I prefer it when they don't converge, but with only three days between them, it's almost inevitable that an eclipse will happen sometimes. 

Last year, I remember my angel's birthday hit me even harder than her angelversary.  Some years, it's not half as bad.  I never can tell in advance because I can't predict how I'll react.  At least we'll be together as a family and busy.  That sometimes helps to make the day less arduous.  Sometimes, the stress can make the day that much worse. 

She would have been eight March 2nd.  For LDS people, that date is significant because it's when a child can get baptized.  Significant dates --preschool entry time, what would have been entrance into or graduation from kindergarten, etc.--tend to be just a little bit harder because they remind us what we're not able to do for our child.  So far, I've just felt vague twinges and had the occasional thought about that rapidly approaching day.  I know those feelings will come faster and closer together as the day approaches, kind of like contractions only more hollow, less hopeful. 

I know it is what it is.  Like every other calendar day, that anniversary will come.  It doesn't help to dwell on things I can't change.  I just wish sometimes that I could skip over that day.