Sunday, October 23, 2011

Reluctant

It is with reluctance that I write this post. I am not entirely sure why. I should not be ashamed or embarrassed by my feelings. Yet somehow the further away I get from June 13, 2008, the harder it is for me to open up and tell anyone when I am having a hard day.

Today I have had a hard day. I think of Camille everyday. She is so much a part of my being. Thoughts of her are behind every other thought I have or comment I make. Most days those thoughts are not charged with emotion. They are just passing thoughts.

But there are other days, like today, where I feel the pull of that part of my heart that has passed on to the great beyond. I feel the absence left there. I long to visit that part of my heart and have it fit back in its rightful place.

Some days I just plain miss her. Most days I don't let myself go to that place where I think in depth about my sweet baby girl. Most days I let the thoughts pass on through without holding on to them to feel my way through them. Maybe some other people would never let these birds of sorrow nest in their minds. I know other people who live daily with these birds of sorrow as their constant companions. That is the way other people find their way through grief.

But I am not other people. I am just me. And I have found my own way through grief by letting the birds come visit on occasion and sing me their mournful melody of loss and longing. Today I sat still and listened.

As the primary children put on our church program, I thought of how this would have been Camille's first year having a part at the big podium. I wondered what kind of personality she would have showed. Would she have been shy in front of the big crowd with a small voice like Lauren or would she have milked the crowd's attention like Ann Marie?

As I sat during choir practice making eyes at Harrison I felt as though I could have been looking at Camille. The older he gets the more he resembles her. It is a good thing he is a boy and wearing all different clothes. It is bitter sweet to look at him and see them both right before me.

My sweet Camille. How I wish I could fly to visit you for an hour or two and then return to my life here. I ache to be near you. Our family will never feel whole while you are not with us. Yet I have sure faith that this time for us to be apart is only temporary and the day will come when we are reunited. Knowing that as I do, I also know that it behoves me to live as fully as I can in this short span of time I have called mortal life. I ought not to waste away my limited time drowning my spirit in the sorrow of our separation. For it will be, after all, but a small moment some day. But forgive me if on occasion I sit and sing along with the sorrow birds and allow them to stay a while in the branches of my soul. Somehow their mournful visits keep you alive in me.

17 comments:

Unknown said...

So sorry you're having a hard day, yet I feel you NEVER need to apologize for such...I imagine ANYTIME I would hear primary children sing it would leave my heart with a big gaping whole if I were in your shoes...there is something about children singing and I haven't even lost a child. You really are amazing at handling so much in life and are definitely entitled to go back to the place of sorrow and missing as often as you need.

On another note I just had to share this small world...you may have already been told, but while I've never met you, I'm friends with Janelle Baugh (Willis) and found your blog after Camille's story (actually through Daxton though since I did his funeral video)...ANYWAY...I've been a reader ever since and today I was sitting in church and low and behold your brother and sister in law were speaking as new members of my ward! How crazy. It is funny because after you mentioned the store opening here I had planned to go and be a customer as I need something fixed on my laptop, but I had no idea they were in my ward until they spoke today! See how wonderful your blog has reached and touched so many people through the beautiful daughter you are missing!!

Thanks for being an inspiration and I hope you can have a better day without too much sorrow.e

Unknown said...

Not sure if it accepted my name jen@photojenic.net

Kaci Uipi said...

The primary children had their program in our ward too... even though Joshua wouldn't quite be old enough yet, it still was hard, thinking about all the other moms so proud of their kids up there, and I have none. I get what you mean about feeling like you shouldn't miss her so much as more and more days pass on... I'm pretty sure a lot of people think that about me, now that the year mark is approaching...but that's why I keep a blog-to let them know that I'm not okay, and will never really "be okay". I like that you share your true feelings--helps us know we are not alone.

Princesses in waiting said...

You are never alone and our sweet sorrow will visit us forever until we hold our babies in our arms again.

Alesha said...

Thank you for sharing this. To each our own with a grief. All the wondering is what hurts most for me. Wondering how they would be and what they would be doing. Thoughts and prayers for you.

cynphil6 said...

xoxo

Joan said...

I can imagine your grief and how it comes in waves at times. I lost my daughter May 27, 2008 and this year her loss feels almost fresh. A friend told me that the third year was the most difficult for her, so I think I'm not losing my mind.
My husband died last February and somedays I feel guilty that the loss of one of them is sharper than the other.
I am so grateful to know we'll see our loved ones again.
I pray for you Stephanie.

Anonymous said...

My brother died 17 years ago and I still have those days. You will grieve throughout your life and that is normal, there will always be some thing to adjust to. The other day my daughter said she wished she could meet him, and I burst into tears - another thing that isn't how I hoped and expected. It is an unhappy truth that our family is not whole anymore - no family picture, no gathering or event is quite right and we feel his absence. It's a reality that I would not choose for myself or anyone. But there it is. We try to make the best of it. We do have to go on but we should never be ashamed that our grief is always with us - whether it is quiet or raging - we lost a person, not a cell phone. You are entitled to your bad day and to express your sadness no matter how long it has been. I hope tomorrow will be easier.

Diana...aka...MeMe said...

Birds of sorrow... that is beautiful Stephanie. You are hearing songs of joy as well with your beautiful family here on Earth~ Although you may not voice your thoughts about sweet Camille daily, I do know, as all your "blog friends" do, she is always on your mind. We all pray for you and your family~ Camille must certainly be missed by all who knew and loved her! Sit and listen, then share with us, because we have not forgotten Camille either. Hugs~

Diana...aka...MeMe said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
The Cricket on the Hearth said...

<3

Brad, Rebecca, Jacob said...

I have no idea what it is like to be in your shoes. But I hope you will always feel comfortable enough with your blogging friends (or someone at least) to share when you are missing Camille. It's okay to sing with those song birds until you have had your fill for now. I'm sure Camille is singing along with them from time to time as she watches you go through these struggles. Keep your head up and know we're always here to 'listen'.

Anonymous said...

Oh, I feel with you. I have not lost a child but I feel the sorrow that you feel; that of emptiness, of frustration, confusion, loneliness. I am having a difficult day myself & finding your post is a blessing to me. Thank you for your strength, for your faith, for who you are. You are a great example to follow.

Vicky T

The Lucksters said...

I dont know or have anything that would ever make you feel better. But know that some of us think of her alot too. I dont know you, but I think of her alot, and tell others of her and you. We had our regional conference this week, and Elder Bednar talked about Christ's Countenance. At the worst possible times he always thought of others. It made me think of you. Thanks for your posts. They are so inspiring to me.

Kellie

Beverly @ The Buzz said...

As a mother who has lost a child, I appreciate these posts. It's been 5 1/2 years since my daughter died and I generally keep my feelings to myself, because I know most people think I should be "over it" by now. I'm not as comfortable sharing, though you give me inspiration to voice my sorrow--no matter how much time has passed. If someone doesn't want to read it, they can just hit delete.

Hoping today is a better day for you.

Charlene said...

I just want you to know that I have read your Blog all the way back when Camille was in the hospital. You said that you like to hear how she has inspired us in some ways. I spend a lot more time with my 3 children. I have become more patient. I tell them I love them many times a day. I pray for them. When I think of Camille I see a bright light shining down from heaven with her beautiful smiling face. She is saying: It's wonderful up here, I can't wait until you join me, but please know that I am o.k. and I watch over you. I even helped you name the boys. I love you, I am a part of you and I am part of all my siblings. When you see them, see me. I am there in spirit. Have a happy home, laugh, dance, sing out loud, don't be so serious mommy, it's o.k. to be silly! Everything is as it should be. Love daddy with all your heart. There is no one to blame. Don't work so hard, it's o.k. to be lazy once in a while. Let yourself go, don't be so tense and get that massage you've been wanting!
P.S. I have no idea how I wrote this. It was like Camille was telling me what to say and I just kept typing. I hope it helps you.

Anonymous said...

Love to you, Stephanie.

Jane
xoxo