Milestones06 March 2012
Death is at your doorstep. It will steal your innocence but it will not steal your substance. Mumford & Sons, Timshel
It's the time of year again, the time that always catches me by surprise. Amidst the business of the summer season and the gratefulness of everything we have, the end of February ushers in a sense of sadness along with the progressively darker mornings . The subconscious build-up to our ordinary existence being shattered into a million pieces, the theft of our innocence. It's nearly 2 years now.
This year, there are so many more reminders - mainly through your sister who is at a very similar phase to where you were when you left us. We go to similar places, listen to similar songs and have a similar routine to what yours was. Looking at her and knowing how much of our heart-territory she occupies, it seems incomprehensible that we lost something so precious to us - and survived. How could something so warm, squishy, adorable and full of such exuberant and expressive life suddenly be rendered into a hard cold shell without us even having one tiny iota of foresight? No warning, no preparation, no reason, no going back. The disbelief will always be there.
But somehow the blind panic and gut-wrenching agony have subsided and made place for a depth and beauty and relief that is present in sadness. The days of missing you are less lately and in many ways it is comforting to ache for you with all my being and know that you were very real for too short a time and that the love we have for you existed so strongly and still exists. It somehow makes the impossibility of what happened more real.
I haven't gone through your pictures for a while. This one was taken when you were 3 months old and so new and tiny and emerging as a little person. Amidst the sleep deprivation I remember feeling so content and complete. I look at this now and see such innocence. I guess now we have more substance.