My little Theodore turned 3 on Monday the 21st. It was a sweet day. We had a little party with a few friends over. A hotdog roast and pass the parcel and cupcakes! We started something new for our kids this year. No presents from friends. Theodore still got a gift from us and Oma and Uncle Dave and Auntie Sabine and Grandpa and Grandma so, believe me, he didn't miss out but it made the party so much more relaxed and the focus was on celebrating Theodore, not on the gifts.
Anyway, the day was beautiful. We had 2 families over. One of them had a little 10 month old baby girl and it was so hard to look at her and know that when my baby girl was 10 months she died. I did not get anything with her beyond 10 months, except for tears. Another family had a little boy about the same age Eva should have been. I need not explain more and, still, it was a nice day. But when I wished my big three-year-old son a happy birthday I also wished he wasn't our youngest living child. He is supposed to have a little sister too, learning to walk in the grass.
I lit a beautiful pink candle inside for Eva. It kinda cut me up that we were all outside partying and her candle was alone inside (but it was too windy outside). When we served the cupcakes, it hit me that here we are again. Another celebration without our Eva. Another party, another day. And it is not going to end...there will be more. More parties, more days without her..she should have been there, walking in the grass, oh honey, we miss you.
A few days ago I planted a tiny little memorial garden for our tiny little girl. A gorgeous rock with her name on it (thank you Renee), Sunflowers and sweetpeas...and other things. Sunflowers and sweetpeas were in full bloom when our little flower died and there were loads of them at her funeral. She was always such a smiley little sunflower. Who are you giving your smiles to now, my sweet?
I have also been dealing with some news a friend has given me. It is hard to process joy in others when my world is so not there. I feel like God has decided that we are just not good enough. He will bless others, but not us. Miracles are for everyone else now, but not us. I feel like I have fallen out of favour with God. I know this is not how it works and I am thankful my belief in God is based in the Word and not in how I feel because I sure feel so alone now. On Sunday, I received a reminder to not forget in the darkness what I know to be true in the Light. This really resonated with me as I am trying to navigate in the darkness. A darkness many people think I should have left behind already. I have not forgotten the Truth, but it is hard to see. It is just so dark. I wish I had a flashlight or a wisp of a candle...
And then I know 2 people with cancer. One has tumors in her brain and one has thyroid cancer. I want to pray for them but I have no faith in healing right now. All I can do is remind them that God has them in the palm of His hand. But I am worried...because the palm of God can crush too. I know. I have been there. I want to pray for them but I am afraid to pray for them. Last time I prayed for healing and for life I got the exact opposite of what I wanted. I am praying again for Life and I am left bereft. This is why I am afraid to pray for my friends...because it feels like it may do them more harm than good.
I am kinda low as I write today but, truth be told, I am often doing better. The hole in my heart will always be there but sometimes the edges feel less jagged once in awhile. I am coming into the season of Evas sickness and the weeks of hospitalization and then the days leading up to her death. I know this summer will be hard as I enjoy things like soccer with my boys and campfires and the smells of summer in the country...things that were absent last year in the hospital and in the city....but...we are not there yet. This time last year I still held Eva in my arms and, while we were worried, she was not full blown sick yet. God, how I miss her. My heart wrenches and squeezes as I remember her sweet little warm body snuggled up with me. I wish I had enjoyed every second with her more. I wish I could go back in time and hold her little warm body again. I wish I wish I wish. So many damn wishes.