The First Day Of My New Year

How do you measure time? Or, more specifically how did you measure time before and after you lost the baby? For me, this is an easy answer. My new year is September 8th. People don't really get this and why should they? They belong to the "other" club, the masses of people that have never felt the loss of a child. I can only be responsible for my own well being and not world's reaction to my little idiosyncrasies. So when mid-summer I got the paperwork for The Comedian's first day of pre-school I stared at if for a loooooong time. In cheery writing were the words "See You On September 8th!" but all I could see was "See you on Emma's birthday".

This gave me pause and for the first time I clearly saw how my perception of time has been permanently skewed. I didn't fight it, but I did recognize that other people were righfully baffled when they would ask, "When does The Comedian start school?" and I would answer in everyday conversation tones, "In a couple weeks, on Emma's birthday". Some of them know my history, in fact some of them lived it with me, but it still doesn't make it any easier for them to talk about.

You know, this bothers me, quite a bit. I mean, if I am her mother and I have worked this damn hard for eight years to accept her death and make some shred of sense of her purpose then why shouldn't I be able to talk about it without shocked expressions meeting my eyes? Let me be clear, I have a sizable chunk of people (both family and friends) who can hold a serious conversation with me about her life without looking away or reverting to standard conversational responses (you know, like "uh-hu and hmmm") while nodding their head, but effectively tuning me out and just allowing me to talk without actually being part of the conversation. For these people, I am infinately grateful for their support system and feel truly blessed that they are in my lives.

That said, I have been very clear about my intentions regarding Emma and how I want her to be remembered in our family. So, I'm wondering (and believe me I don't have the answer!)... If I have told the world what I need and they still can't seem anti-up, as it were, then where is the breakdown? Are they too scared to say her name? I say it all the time. Are they too put off by the subject of death? It is all around us in nature, in fact some of these people actually....hunt! Are they afraid if they talk about it, death with come for them? If that is the answer then I am truly sad for these people because when their day does come they will go, as we say, "kicking and screaming".

I prefer to embrace this concept and use the space/time continuum to explore the possibility that we can live harmoniously in one world while integrating the other. I feel this way, not only because I want to visualize a beautiful reunion with Emma in Heaven someday, but because I want to live gracefully surrounded by her spirit for my years here on earth. Like Morrie said (inj one of my favorite books of all time!), "First, learn to die, then you will learn to live." I'm still working on this one, cause its a biggie, but at the end of the day I would rather have smiled, laughed, and inspired just one other human than shed a million tears at the hands of sorrow.