Sunday, June 21, 2009

Life is so surreal sometimes. At times it seems like I'm fully in the moment, I'm fully aware of my life and what's been happening to me over the past three months and then I seem to fade back into this world of just existing. I often think of Raisa and what she meant... means to me. She is still a huge part of my life, just a huge missing part. Sometimes it's like she was just here yesterday and I know I'm going to see her tomorrow. I'm looking through pictures of her sisters, laughing at the funny ones, sighing at the sweet ones and absolutely falling apart when I realize that that sweet baby girl is in the background and I had never noticed her before. Some days are good, some days are bad and some days are so completely lost to me. I can spend an entire week, busy about my life and be brought to a standstill by the "sudden" realization that she is never coming back, that I don't get to hold her and breathe in that sweet smell that was so uniquely her and I end up on my knees, wracked with grief so raw that I can't breathe. It seems strange to others that I am so attached to her but she was like one of my own babies. I couldn't love her more if I had given birth to her and it still wrecks me to think of life without her. She was taken so suddenly and I never had the chance to see her or say goodbye. Her parents were there for her entire struggle. They were there to say goodbye when she took her last breath but I never got that chance and that hurts a lot. They split her ashes so she could be buried in Alaska, by her mother's family and in South Dakota, by her father's family but I have nothing. I have pictures and memories and some of the things that were used for her while she was here but I have nothing of HER. Not a lock of hair, not a handprint, not a footprint... Nothing but what I carry around inside of me and that will never be enough. I know my memories of her are already fading, being replaced by new ones of her sisters and the rest of life and it's like saying goodbye all over again when I can't remember things.
The pig roast is quickly approaching. What's that got to do with this post? Everything! The pig roast at Pastor and Anita's last year was where I got to parade her little eight week old self around and show her off. Everyone cooed and sighed and everyone held her. I know people just do that to babies but that day it was about Raisa, MY Raisa, not some anonimous baby that belonged to someone else. Angela took a picture of us that day and I cherish that picture. It reminds me always that she was here, that I touched her and held her and loved her. It reminds me that for one brief, golden year, my life was better because she was in it and even though, at times, it seems that grief has enveloped my entire being, I know that I'll see her again. I'll be able to touch her and hold her and love her in person again.

~Pam

1 comment:

blondevue... said...

I can't imagine all of what you're going through, but I know that God is carrying you through.
Praying for you Pam. Thanks be to God that you have the hope, the Hope of eternal life.
And getting to see her again.

About Me

We're a family that came to Alaska in shifts. We've been here since 1995 and don't plan to leave any time soon.

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