Today I am carrying around the memory of an event that will never happen. Today we should be in the Bahamas. Today we should be celebrating Lisa's marriage to John. I remember so well when she told us they were planning their wedding for this date in the Bahamas. I was amazed by her hope and ability to continue living and planning even when she was submerged in treatments and Dr. visits. She had just completed her stem cell transplant and was living with the full conviction that healing was inevitable. Let's plan a wedding! Kit set up a website for the event and they sent out save the date cards. 08.08.08...They chose this day because John's hockey number is 8 and they thought it would be an easy way for him to remember their anniversary. This was going to be a celebration like none other. We were already anticipating so much to be grateful for. After everything they had battled, they deserved to have the party of the decade.
I was pregnant with my second pregnancy when they started planning the wedding and the baby was due in May. I remember being so concerned about what I was going to do with our 3 month old while we made the trip to the Bahamas. I couldn't imagine being away from such a small baby...but how would a 3 month old do with such a trip? I wanted to be able to kick back and enjoy the festivities...but already I was a protective mommy and didn't want to think about leaving my little one. What a life lesson this all has been....because here we are today, no wedding trip to the Bahamas and no 3 month old baby. Sometimes you really have no idea how things are going to go.
I have been missing Lisa in a very selfish way the past few weeks. It's funny the way grief sneaks up on you and hits you in seemingly random ways. I had one of those moments the other day where I was struck with such an obvious fact it seemed odd that I was even having such thoughts. I don't remember exactly what I was doing...but, all of a sudden the thought popped in my mind, "Oh my goodness...Lisa never even knew I was pregnant. Her last memory of me was my last miscarriage." And even as I was thinking this, another part of me was thinking, "Well, duh, Laura...of course she didn't." But even as obvious as this is, the reality of it still took my breath away like it was the first time I realized it.
I had the same type of moment when I watched The Business of Being Born a month or so ago. The movie itself is a fairly emotional documentary about pregancy and childbirth in America...and I suppose I am in a pretty hormonal way right now. Anyways, at the end of the movie they played an Emmylou Harris song about angels. I'm not really sure what song it is, but it hit me swift and strong. Lisa loved Emmylou. And the combination of images of new babies and Emmylou crooning about angels sent me over the edge. I began sobbing uncontrollably with the realization that that is what Lisa is to us now...an angel. She won't be here when our daughter is born. She won't rub on my growing belly and giggle at how big I'm getting. She won't share in all the little memories I've been holding so dear. And most painful of all...baby girl will never know her Aunt Lisa. And while all this stuff is so obvious and selfish...it still hits me sometimes like I'm just now learning of her death.
So today I hold my open palms up to God. I say thank you for my precious daughter...for her heartbeat and breath and little kicks. I embrace my gratitude and happiness and lightness of being that I felt so far from a year ago. And I also embrace my sadness. I let myself question why Lisa is gone. I let my tears flow for all the plans that didn't get to be...for weddings we'll never get to celebrate and babies we'll never get to hold. And isn't this living? Always teetering between the bitter and the sweet. I accept it all...and pray for the strength to walk through all seasons of life with hope, gratitude and a very big love.
*How bizarre is it that I made this post at exactly 8am??
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