One day I put some music on CD for Donna, some of her favorite songs
and such. Many of them of course we
shared as favorites, but some were songs I knew she particularly liked. This was soon after the diagnosis, and until
now I had not thought much about them. I
was listening to some of them in the car the other day and a thought occurred
to me; at the time I was making them, I thought I was doing something for her,
however small it might be. But as I listened to them I realized that maybe,
just maybe I had been making them for myself also.
Maybe that was the start of my attempt to
prepare me for now, I don’t know. We
would play them together sometimes; we played them a lot as time ran out,
especially those last few days…We all have our favorites and we know why they
are special to us. They take me back to
special times and special memories with Donna, happy and sad, but it also helps
he feel better now…helps me to deal with the way I’m feeling now. Wonder if that was the subconscious at work,
probably.
Perhaps, without realizing it, I knew that those CDs would be needed
by me. That they would be used to ease
the pain of losing my baby…wow. That’s another thing, let me make this clear, I did not LOSE anyone or
anything. I know it’s the commonly
accepted phrase, but I just don’t like it.
It implies that somehow I had something to do with her not being
here. Like I actively participated in
her disappearance. Well I don’t think
so, I didn’t misplace her, or carelessly toss her someplace, and I sure as hell
didn’t drop her off somewhere and forgot to pick her up. In my mind, loss has the possibility of being
found associated with it, a chance for some type of recovery. I don’t think that will be happening, at
least not in any tangible form. This type of loss and the pain that goes with it is beyond anything I
could have imagined; it demands that you recognize that the chances of physical recovery
are absolutely zero. But mabe, just mabe...
I’m finding that although not physically present, Donna is everywhere
around me because she’s running around in my head, crashing through other
thoughts and ideas and commanding first row attention. She’s not lost to me, she can’t be. The CDs reminds me of this because they allow
me to call up memories of her at any time I please. It was a seemingly small
act at the time, but it has turned out to be much more than I ever dreamed
of. I’m grateful for them now. For they seem to make this grieving easier,
softer, not so pointed and painful.
Since the experience with the CDs, I have been looking for other things
that I had done thinking I was doing them for her, which may end up serving me. I’m sure they’ll turn up, maybe not when I
want them to, but when I need them to.
When I need them to help me through a particularly rough day, or a
sleepless night. I’m too muddled right now to think of anymore, but I pray
they’re there.
As the days go by, functioning in the new life continues; a different
routine has developed and my mind has settled…a bit. The deep raw pain has eased a little and I
can get through at least a few hours without falling apart. There are still tears but that’s o.k.
too. There needs to be tears because if
I can’t cry for my baby, my girl, then why have tears at all. I must admit though, some of those tears are
probably for myself; I ain’t waiting for nobody to cry for me.
‘Don’t let the sun catch you crying…the night’s the time for all your
tears….’ words from a song I listen to from time to time. Well the sun has caught me crying, and
probably will again, I’m not hiding. I'll be listening to CDs and doing other things that may make me cry when i think of her and that’s alright, I need it, as everyone
knows how much better and refreshed you feel
after a good cry. In fact I think I’ll go have one right now….
Pax,
_____________________________________________________
“I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart) I am never
without it (anywhere I go, you go), my dear…” -eecummings
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