Thursday, November 04, 2010
I can't believe it's been nearly 2 years since I posted here. Crazy how life gets away from you that way. I know they say that, "life goes on" but wow.
So Nova would be nearly 5 now, if he'd have survived. Five. That's pretty much incomprehensible to me. If I have to be absolutely honest with you, I have to look at pictures to remember what his fat little baby face looked like. I can no longer imagine, in my mind's eye, what I think he'd have looked like as a nearly 5year old little boy. I can't imagine all the things he'd have loved, or hated, or wanted, or said, or done, like I once did.
I wonder what he'd have been for Halloween? Or if he'd have even been healthy enough to go trick or treating. Or if some unforseeable thing might have happened in that time between his (albeit imaginary) survival of the surgery, and now... If he'd have lived, would he still be alive? Realistically, I have no way of knowing that. And I've learned that the "what if" game is an incredible waste of time and energy anyway.
It's still, even after all these years, even after losing 2 children, a little surreal that I *should* have a 4 yr old son and a 9 yr old daughter in addition to the crazy chaotic rat-pack that currently fills my house to the brim.
So, anyway. On to the thoughts and events that bring me here to post after so long...
After watching an episode of Hoarders a couple of days ago, in which a woman hoarded in response to her daughter's death, I was inspired to finally sort through all of Nova's things. Believe it or not, when he died, pretty much everything he'd ever owned was packed into boxes and put into the closet, where it has sat, collecting dust and age, since April of 2006. I've seriously never even looked at any of it. I can't even explain why. At first, it was a comfort just knowing his things were there. But I realized the other night that they served absolutely no purpose. There was simply no rational reason to hold on to every unused diaper, every stained bib, and every used onesie and sleeper he'd ever owned. And so I pulled it all out, passed a few things on to my new granddaughter, and threw away most everything that didn't have a significant meaning or memory attached to it.
It was painfully painless, if that makes any sense. I felt a great sense of relief to let go, just a little, of what's been gone for so long - and a great sense of guilt that it didn't hurt more. It was a little too dry-eyed. I expected to be sad, to relive memories that would break my heart all over again. And don't let me mislead you, I did relive things, I did get sad - and I also smiled at what amounts to just a handful of memories that I have with the most amazing little man who ever came into my life.
posted by Erin @
2:01 AM
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