I Can't Imagine

Today is my baby girl's 2nd birthday. Two, she's only two, but it's so filled with significance I can barely stand it. It means that in 4 months and 16 days she will forever be older than her older sister. It must mean something to my friends, because several of them called or emailed. And I confess, I can barely remember their birthdays, let alone their childrens'. I wonder if it's that my daughter died so soon after her sister's birthday that everyone remembers. For me it's that downhill slide to The Day. The Day on which something happened that never again can, yet the fear of What Happened will always linger.

So many people say "I can't imagine." They mean they can't imagine what I've been through, can't imagine living with the death of their child, can't imagine getting out of bed day after day face with that fact. Most times I find the expression rather strange. I wonder, why would anyone try to imagine? And therein lies the reason they can't. It's not something most parents can fully let themselves consider. But I realized earlier today that even worse are those who don't say it, those who I know don't even realize that I live through something they would never let themselves imagine.

There are those who care enough to at least know that the grief is there every day, the trauma of having lived through the events surrounding her death. There are others, those you hear of and hope you'll never encounter, who think you should be "over it."

A friend sent me an article recently about a family who lost a son. In the article, a friend explains that this isn't a wound that heals. It's more like losing an arm which you never get back and learning to live without it. I've thought of both expressions many times--healing and losing a limb--because I guess I was hoping that when I somehow healed there would only be a scar. But the other is more true--there's a giant hole that will never be filled. And only some people dare to even wonder what it's like.

To those who do and those who don't, I say I hope none of you ever get beyond imagining what this is like. To those who at least tell me they try, thank you. To those who don't, well, I don't believe in swearing in print so I'll refrain, but I must say my personal encounters with these people has, oddly enough, made me stronger. I gain strength in defense of my experience, my right to feel whatever comes up. And in all that, I still live my life. I work, I raise my child, I plan for the baby to arrive in a few months.

Happy Birthday baby girl! May it be the first of dozens.