The 15th has rolled around again. I can pretty safely say that this is the last 15th where I will not have held our baby Hope/Nathan in my arms. Alive or dead s/he will have spent time in my arms.
Somewhere, somehow, along the line of the last nineteen 15ths that I have had to endure without my precious Eva, the pain of them has become duller. Sometimes I hate how the pain has become duller. I hate how the survival mechanism of being alive has made it so that the pain has to become duller.
Do I miss her less? No.
Do I love her less? No.
There is a word in french that I've been thinking about alot-indomptable. It literally means untameable but can also mean unquenchable, ever-springing, unbeatable. I think of that word alot in regards to hope. It is our human way to have this ever-springing, unquenchable hope. Even in the midst of tragedy. It somehow keeps going. This unquenchable hope for better days. Hope for heaven. Hope for a living baby that keeps living. Unquenchable hope.
The hope that keeps us getting up in the morning.