For years I kept journals -- in composition, spiral bound, and French graph paper books. This blog is an attempt to get back to writing and documenting the world around me using photos, newspaper headlines, and other articles.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Remembering

My Dearest Bebek,

Eight years ago, I lost you.  I woke up early in the morning with painful cramps.  Within an hour, my body had expelled you in what felt like a river of blood.  You were in my tummy for less than 11 weeks.  But you were so real to me as I had had an ultrasound and had seen the flicker of light that was your heartbeat.  As the light, you were the essence of life to me.  When you were no longer part of me, I thought I must have done something wrong.  Your dad wondered what he had done to God to displease Him.  We were a mess -- married less than 48 hours and then this.  Whammy.  Devastation.

I had to tell someone at work because I didn't want everybody to think that I was just extending the honeymoon.  When I got in to work the next day, I was floored with the outpouring of sympathy from the men in the office, sharing their stories of loss and support.  I was humbled and grateful for their understanding.  Who knew this was such a common phenonmenon?  I had no idea.  The subject is still not talked about often.  And when we do, we whisper.

It has taken me years to process losing you.  I'm not "over" the loss, but I am better able to cope.  I'm no longer angry.  I have better perspective.  I've realized that I need to create a space where I can go and mourn and that it is OK for me to still feel the sadness.  I'm going to put a marker in the Ashram cemetery where I can go and sit, remember and honor the role you played in my life.

 I hope your soul has found the ultimate Peace and that you are not here on earth in realm of pain and suffering.  But if you are in this world, I pray that you are able to come in contact with the Divine -- that your journey to our ultimate home is filled with love, wisdom, grace, empathy, hard lessons that are learned gently, and enough discipline to be successful in your daily life and spiritual practice.  Hopefully we will meet up in the beyond and you can explain to me why you couldn't stick around -- why you had to leave in such a violent fashion.   Until then, may your soul know that you were longed for even before you ever came to be, loved with every fiber of my being for those 11 weeks we were together, and not forgotten, long after you left.

--Mom

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