"Oh heavy lightness..."

So, I haven’t posted in several days. Things have been in a weird state of perpetual suspension here. I feel like I’ve lived a month in the past 4 days. Strangely, it’s only Wednesday but I feel older - tired somehow from a race I wasn't aware I am running. The days stretched longer and longer in my mind due to the looming numbers on the calendar and, Isabelle’s birthday was upon us. How does one celebrate what is supposed to be such a happy event in the midst of overwhelming sorrow? There was no big announcement or any “memorial” event. Simply, A and I went to the church and prayed. We left some flowers in the same spot where we left our baby girl last year. It's a strange feeling, having a child die. As Shakespeare put it, "Oh heavy lightness, serious vanity. Misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms." - it is a balance of feeling: paralyzing sorrow that my daughter is not with me, paired with the unbelievable joy that she's with God and our family. The hole in my heart isn’t closing. Somtimes it's huge and engulfing, other times it's a pinprick. I'm getting better at protecting it from bursting open. “Time heals all wounds” they say. (Who are “they” anyway? And why do “they” seem to know everything? Personally, I think “they” are full of it.) I don’t think that adage is true. I think I’ve just learned, with time, which remembering will cause crippling pain and which is bearable. So, risking a tidal wave of grief in my already holey heart, I say – Happy Birthday, Izzie. We miss you.