Do you remember?
Do you remember when you talk with me that a part of me is missing?
Do you remember when you see my children all together that there is one missing?
Do you remember that I am not whole or complete?
Do you remember that there is pain?
Do you see me smile at your child and do you remember mine?
Do you know how deep the pain is in me so that I can laugh with you?
Do you know how hard it is to talk around her?
Do you know how my mouth stretches to say her name but remains silent?
Do you see my heart tattered and torn and raggedly stitched together?
Do you see the healing that is there?
Do you know that even in my silence, she is always there?
Do you see the tears and wonder, or
Do you see the tears and know?
Do you see her shadow playing over there?
Do you remember?
Do you remember Eva?
Do you?
Remembering her always
ReplyDeleteThank you
DeleteI remember...
ReplyDeleteThanks Heidi, I know.
DeleteI think of your Eva often as I watch Freya grow and am reminded of how important it is to squeeze her tight and tell her how much I love her every single day. I wonder if very many people remember or think of Charlotte anymore now that her little sister is here.
ReplyDeletexoxo,
Amanda
Thank you for thinking of Eva Amanda. We have your cmas card and I wonder where Charlotte would have been in the photo. Who would have been holding her as she hammed it up for the camera? What colour would her hair be? her eyes?
DeleteYes, I remember Eva. Probably every day I remember Eva, although to be honest I spend more time thinking about you than her specifically. Her pain is gone, yours goes on and on, and on. My guess is that everyone who knows you and knew Eva does remember her, even if they don’t mention her often or at all. In the past I know I have been hesitant to bring up the subject of an acquaintance’s dead loved-one, for fear of making things more difficult for them. I thought: if they want to talk about it, I will gladly listen (and probably be uncomfortable and emotional), but what if they don’t want to speak about him/her or at least not with me? I didn't want to pick at their wounds, so to speak. After reading your blog for so long I think about this differently now, although I admit I still feel pretty cautious about what I say /write. So anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I think it’s likely that people think about and remember Eva more than is probably apparent to you. And I don’t think that the new baby in you is likely to change that … it is of course so much easier to speak about an alive child than a dead one, and that must make the apparent lack of remembrance of Eva that much more striking and painful in contrast. I remember Eva. I know that a part of you is missing and yet that Eva is always in your thoughts and heart.
ReplyDeleteTS, You don't comment often but when you do it's always thoughtful. Thank you for reading here, for remembering, and for your thoughtfulness.
DeleteMe again.
ReplyDeleteI remember you letting me hold Eva at our baby group in town, when she was just a little thing - maybe 4 months? She was sweet and I really enjoyed playing with her. Then you whisked her away to weigh her. My little A would have been about 16 months old, and I was having major "baby itch" at the time. When you whisked her away I thought ha ha, she's probably tired of me drooling all over her baby girl.
And I don't remember that moment. Although I know I was already concerned about her low weight at that point so I would have been keen to weigh her. You could have drooled all you wanted. I never minded. <3
DeleteI remember
ReplyDeleteThanks Kelly. I hope you're working when our hope baby decides to make an appearance.
DeleteSuch a beautiful poem Em. I think of you and Eva often. Hope you're doing well.
ReplyDeleteSameen, I think of you too. I think of Samara and the new little sister on her way. It's nice to hear from you on my blog. This wasn't intended to be a poem, just my heart's cry. But it did turn out that way. We're doing as well as can be expected. And you? I know we're on a similar timeline. In more ways than one. Love to you. Em
DeleteWe think Eva and you everyday, as you are all on our fridge and my boys talk about Eva often, more so since Mark's parents died. Love you, friend!
ReplyDeleteIt's amazing how death brings heaven closer. Thank you Karle.
DeleteIt's been a long time since I've been in touch. Have been taking a break from Glow. But I still remember Eva and think about her as I watch my rainbow Serena grow. I often think about the unbearable loss you suffered - your sweet little girl. Your post rang so true to me. Nobody says Bode's name anymore either. Thank you for the beautiful description of how we babyloss mamas feel. - Nicole from Glow
ReplyDeleteThank you Nicole. I, too, have played distance games with Glow. Sometimes I'm there and sometimes I'm far. Blogs are far more consistent for me. I'm glad Serena is growing so well. I don't remember how old she is now but she must be getting big.
DeleteThanks for stopping in. I appreciate you.
Em