Empty cradle, broken heart

This book by Deborah L Davis seems to be staple reading for bereaved parents and rightly so. It quite possibly saved my marriage. It wasn't until we read this book that we understood how and why we were grieving so differently, it allowed us to accept that and let each other do what we needed to do, not what the other person thought was 'right'. The parents in this book are open and honest, they tell it like it is. They have experienced a loss and have lived to tell their story.

They have lived-survived this nightmare.

Something I thought I was no longer going to be able to do.

As I held Cordelia in her last moments I actually thought my heart was going to stop beating the exact moment hers did. I mean, how could I, her mother still live when she had to die. It is not the way things work, we got the order wrong, me first then her. Only once she was a happy old lady surround by her own loving family of course.

But here I am, 7 months to the day that she passed away. I am surprised I am not feeling more sad or bitter today. I think I am trying to ignore today a bit, trying to make it a bit easier on myself. I am sad but I am trying hard not to be. I miss Cordelia so much but here I am still living, still breathing, still surviving.

It is hard work, exhausting actually but I am doing it. I am going to make it through this.

Is this something that I should be proud of? That I have made it this far? That I haven't fallen into a permanent black hole of depression and booze? I have had my share of times when I didn't think I was going to make it, those were very long dark days that thankfully don't seem to knock at my door anymore. I still have a long way to go but I feel I am making progress, either that or I am just in an 'up' time.

I am no different to any other bereaved mother out there but maybe we should be more proud of ourselves for making it (for those that have) or knowing we are going to make it even though we are not 'there' yet. What I mean by that is not that we will get over our babies or forget them. No-far from it. I mean when we get to the point where we can function somewhat normally on a daily basis, when we can think about our babies and smile instead of cry. When we can crack a smile and not feel guilty for it. When the good days out number the bad. When we feel less pain, anger, guilt, shame, sadness or what ever else torments us.

I think a time like this exists. I am not there yet but I have to believe in a future where there is light, happiness and some laughter. The parents in this book help me believe that life after loss is possible. I will be able to exist and live with this permanent Cordelia shaped whole in my heart. That somehow life does go on.

My job will be to make sure that Cordelia's memory goes on too, that she will not fade from memory when I am no longer around. That she mattered. She did, she does, she always will.

Love and miss you Cordelia.