Sunday, April 13, 2014


I sat down not knowing if I had words tonight. I opened my Pandora, not thinking about anything in particular. The first song that comes on is "I Will Wait." Hey there my sweet girl. That's all I needed to tell me to sit here and write about her. 

There isn't a love song that isn't about her anymore. Everything is about her. Everything. I ache so deeply for her. There aren't sufficient words to explain the ache. It's so deep, so primal. My very existence aches. One just has to glance at me and they can see the ache. I may smile. I might laugh. I probably look ok from the outside, but when someone looks at me, really looks at me, they will see it. My eyes are deeper, sad. My posture is weak. I look like at any moment I am going to come apart at the seams. I look like I'm going to fizzle out at any second. I don't know how I haven't. I will never understand how I still wake up every morning. How long can someone live with this ache deep in their very essence? 

That's a rhetorical question. If I didn't die the second she did, then I'm not going to let this kill me. That would be the easy way out. That would be so disrespectful to my Violet. She doesn't get to live her life, so I have to live mine. I have to live everyday like it could be my last. I have to. I have to for her. 

I belong with you, you belong with me, you're my sweetheart. Every. Single. Song is about her. Every single one. It's like all these artists knew Violet was going to die, so they wrote all the songs about her. 

We got the panel for the cedar chest engraved finally. I will have to write more about that whole fiasco later on. It was a fucking joke, but it finally got done and it is beautiful and terrible.

That first picture is the Violet corner of our bedroom. There are only a couple things in the cedar chest so far, I am nowhere near ready to go through her things. We should be moving into our new home in a couple months, so the day for that is drawing near. I can't put everything away. I think I will always have some of her clothes hanging up, I will always have the purple monkey towel hanging in the bathroom, I will have pops of purple everywhere in the house. We are going to plant a beautiful purple tree (that I have yet to find, any tips would be great) in our yard for her. She doesn't get to live in our home anymore, but that doesn't mean she won't still be there. 

I'm all over the place tonight. My brain doesn't work like it used to. It is rewiring itself. Trying to learn how to keep my broken heart beating while never forgetting her. I think about her constantly, but I also have to think about other things. It's like I have 2 brains now. One that is completely dedicated to all things Violet, the other for everything else. So that I can always be thinking of her, while still being a semi-functioning human. 

I'm drawing from the energy of all the grieving mothers that ever were tonight. I can't imagine how this is really my life. I cannot imagine how I am never going to hold her again. It is unimaginable. Too painful to think about, it takes my breath away. It's a punch in the gut that could easily take my down to where I will never get up again. I know that isn't an option. I am not a coward and I would never do that to Violet. So, the only thing that keeps me standing most times is thinking of all the other mothers that have lost their beloved children. They kept going. Millions are still going. I have numerous blogs of grieving mothers pulled up on my phone all day long. When I feel the breath leaving my lungs, when I feel the punch to the gut, when I feel my knees start to quake and my heart start skipping beats, I pull one up. I read their words, I feel their pain, I see that they are still going. And, I take a breath. If they can do it, so can I. Keep fucking pushing.

I'm so rambly tonight my silly baby. I just let the words flow out tonight and this is what happened. A big jumble of words that I'm not even sure make any sense at all. But, nothing makes any sense anymore, so eh. At least I got some words out. Maybe I will be able to sleep a bit tonight. I wish I could hold you one more time. My arms are so empty. They need you. I need you. Good things have been happening, and I know it's all because of you. Thank you sweetheart. I miss you. I love you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars. 


  1. I think the chest is beautiful! I love the chair and I also love the tree idea. You should be able to put her stuff away when you are ready. Keep pushing!

  2. Sorry. I wrote you and told you the wrong tree. The tree I told you about, is only the vine..sorry. I looked more, and found the Jacaranda Tree, is the tree I think you are looking for.

  3. Try a purple wisteria tree! It's absolutely beautiful, just like Violet! :)

    Michelle, I just have to say... I've been reading your entries religiously, checking up on you and your family all the way from New Hampshire, trying to make sense of this. And this morning, as I was typing in your url, I got a call saying my friend's daughter passed away... She was three years old. I feel like we are all so very connected; everything hurts, but someone will always be there to understand. xo

    1. I am so very very sorry about your friend's daughter. So terrible. If she wants/needs to reach out to someone who is in this dreadful club, let her know I am here. Thank you for reading and following along.

  4. Or a lilac bush if trees turn out to not be an option? <3 Thinking of you.

  5. I remember when I was in labor, I was so terrified. Borderline panicky, really. I thought, Oh God, how am I gonna do this?? I wanted to get up and leave! I couldn't get a grip. I actually compared it (out loud) to the feeling I get at the top of a ski slope. I don't know, you may be an expert skier, but I am not. I despise heights and am not a huge fan of speed, and the combination of the two has more than once made me want to scoot down the mountain on my bottom. The only reason I haven't done so is because I'm more scared of the possibility of my fears controlling me than I am afraid of heights and speed. So the analogy was very real to me at that moment. I wanted motherhood More.Than.Anything. and after years of infertility, that longing was stronger than my fear of labor and delivery. Looking back now, the analogy almost makes me laugh because it's not even in the same realm as the miraculous feat of childbirth. Truth is, what I would have described as my very weakest moment (what kind of a mother panics in the middle of normal childbirth?) was actually my strongest. And it made me stronger than I ever was before. You are right: keep pushing, for Violet and for Lyvi. You are most obviously NOT a coward. Your determination to go on, sometimes just one moment at a time, will eventually loosen the chokehold around your neck. Give yourself some grace, no one has the right to tell you how to grieve or to expect you to be "ok" (whatever that is, anyway). And through it all, remember that you're stronger than you think. After all, you gave Violet life and that is a miracle in and of itself. Praying for you and your sweet family tonight. xo

    P.S. They may not be in the tree family, but I wouldn't be surprised if heaven smelled like purple hyacinths.