There is that list of emotions that you are supposed to feel when someone dies, there is a order to it, you check it off your list giving you an indication when you will begin to feel better I guess.
My grief isn't typical, I don't follow this list to the dot. The circumstances surrounding this isn't typical so why should my emotions be any different.
I still haven't cried.
I'm sure I could cry if I sat down and really let myself but I just can't seem to allow it to come. It almost happened last Wednesday while I was exercising. I was jogging with the girls listening to my Zune, Fort Minor's, Where'd you go to be specific, and for some reason I felt the emotions bubbling up hitting my tears ducts as they tried to force their way out. I know the song is not about someone dying, but I'm certain at this point in time it could have the even had the Flight of the Concords playing and it would have struck that nerve seeing how raw they are right now. I didn't allow the tears to escape though. I just pushed them back down, shook my head in disbelief (something we all have been doing since that dreadful Tuesday 3 weeks ago) and hit the pavement even harder, a little faster.
My Dad got remarried so long ago that I was surprised when I found it had been over 20 years since his wife was brought into my life. She never was a step mother to me, she was my friend. She just respected my quirks better than most, maybe because she also had quirks that made many people puzzled, that could be a good possibility I suppose. I never had one bad memory of her, never an episode where I felt threatened by her presence in my Dad's life. She gave us our space as we grew and never forced her way in. At our monthly visits she didn't fight for that valuable time we had to spend with our Dad, she gave that to us freely. I don't think it was until my college years when I truly understood how useful she was in my life. She gave me invaluable advice and an even more a valuable ear.
Yes, a friend indeed that will be missed so deeply.
I don't know why she is gone. I will probably never understand. But for the time being I've not only found myself speechless, but even more so, tearless in disbelief.
It's what I say numerous times a day, after time-outs, after a temper tantrum. It's a reminder that whatever she does, good or bad, she is still loved and cherished. There are times I'll start that sentence to her and end with "I still what Camille" and as if she has been trained, she immediately repeats "You still love me". You wonder what they're absorbing. You wonder if it's just something they repeat back but is meaningless to them.
Today was just one of those days, or afternoons I guess I should say. The day itself, though busy and hectic went relatively well. Camille went along with game plan for our Monday: 4 month check for Rosemary, some grocery shopping and then some play in the pool. But as if she had pent up all her misbehaviour, it all spilled over with a simple 5 minute warning for lunch. She just couldn't take it and continued what seemed like a blood curdling scream from outside, to me swiftly lifting her up out of the pool and to her room. She finally did calm down, and with much much persuasion, she took a nap. She woke up in good spirits. No screaming from her room, no frustration at a toy, just quiet play until quiet time was over with. Quiet indeed, because when I opened her door to release her, I saw what had kept her occupied for that extra half hour. Both drawers of clothes, that once had been neatly folded, now lay scattered all over the floor.
"I can play them with though, Mama"
Yes, she can. She can try on a few outfits, mix match a few shirts and skirts, but not completely empty out both drawers, that's not the deal we made.
"Go make Rosemary laugh Camille, Mama needs a moment"
She went, and came back.
"She laughed Mama"
Still puffing and stewing as I fold and fold and fold.
"Go make her laugh again Camille. Mama is very frustrated with you right now. You fought to take a nap and screamed at me. That was not nice. You then tore apart both drawers, that's not how we treat our things. Mama is very frustrated right now, please go make Rosemary laugh again"
Walking over mounds of Capri's and skirt's, with her arms wide open she comes closer to me, almost tripping, she wraps those little arms around me, lays her sweet soft head on my shoulders and whispers:
"But you still love me Mama"
She absorbs, she hears me, it's not meaningless.
"That's right my precious one, Mama still loves you"
It's no secret that the state of this site is quite shaky right now. I barely update anymore which sadly means I don't have any type of journal of Rosemary's first year as I did for Camille. I just don't have the motivation like I used to which is sad to me. I want that motivation back.
The last post which strangely got deleted before anyone could see it was submitted to the new Roots and Sprout site. If you haven't visited over there yet, I suggest you pop over and read through all the amazing posts. And while you're at it, keep reading through July and look for me there!
Until then, hopefully that zest for writing will be reignited in me once again.
