It has been far too draining just to even think about articulating the rawness of what I feel lately.
I am awake. This is really true. You actually drowned in Switzerland as ridiculous and dramatic as that sounds- this is actually my life.
“Appa, are you in heaven with God?” “Mommy die?” “When mommy get weawy old, mommy die.” I loathe having these conversations with my two-year-old. Why shouldn’t she be allowed to be shielded from this alarming reality like every one else her age?
And then other times, she is just so utterly delightful, like this afternoon when she said, (while I was changing her diaper), “Bye bye mommy, I’ll be right back.” When I ask her “Where are you going?” she says “Au straaalia mommy.” Of course.
And at those times, often I feel you nearby. I can’t conceive really that if there is an afterlife you would miss any of these moments, but if that afterlife is not in space or time, it is just beyond me how you experience it. Still, I hope…and I trust. And sometimes, yes, I feel you near.
In “On Grief and Grieving,” there is a story of a dying woman who just couldn’t let go…she didn’t want to leave her husband. But finally one night she told him she was ready and it was OK. When he asked her why, she explained, “He told me you’re already there…” The next night she died.