Seven Years

We can't go to Clarissa's grave today because it is a busy evening for us, and so we planned our Family Home Evening yesterday to visit the cemetery.  I had a floral arrangement (I always buy the clearance ones at Memorial Day so I don't have to rush to find a flower for her on her birthday), and we placed it, and sang "Happy Birthday!" to her.

Jackson has been very interested in his little sister.  He's been trying to sort out death, resurrection, and his baby sister in his mind.  He asks a lot of questions, and last evening was no exception.  He did feel the need to hug and kiss his little sister, and it was way too precious to not get a picture.

As I knelt next to my daughter's grave, I couldn't believe it had been seven years!  The time has gone by quickly, it seems.  As I pondered how quickly time passes, my heart reminded me of its wound as suddenly the pain almost knocked me over.  Matt looked over at me and came and put an arm around me.

If you remember, I wrote a post a while ago (two years ago) about how I felt that I had released my pain, that I had finally let go.  Well, it's an amazing thing, a mother's heart never forgets.  The wound from so long ago opened again, and emotions rushed to the surface.  Suddenly, seven years ago became yesterday.  You see, the wound scars and heals, but it can quickly open and hurt again.  While not nearly as many things trigger it, the wound remains.  The ache is real, it is physical, and my heart literally hurts.  Even now as I'm typing, I have to stop and breathe deeply to control the emotions that want to follow the ache.

While I miss holding my little girl, lately, my grief has been about what I will miss in 20 years from now.  My mother and I have a very close relationship, and I love how I can call and talk to her on the phone about anything, and she will do the same.  I could call her at any hour if I needed.  I love that my mom is my friend.  My mom is forever.  I grieve that I will not have that relationship with my  daughter, that one day when I'm older and getting tired of life that I won't have that mother-daughter bond.

Okay, those of you who are now chanting, "but you will, it will come, but it will be later. . ." believe me, I KNOW.  That's the problem.  I ache that I have to wait so long for that.  I don't know when it will happen, but I know it will.  But while I'm on Earth, I won't get to have that comfort.  That's where the ache comes in. 

However, I have a merciful Father in Heaven who allows me special moments.  I am grateful for the very powerful, very spiritual, very personal glimpses and feelings that my Heavenly Father gives me now and then -- when He parts the veil, and I get to feel my daughter near and tell me, "Hi, Mom."  Those are the moments I treasure and love.  Those are the bitter-sweet moments that comfort me and yet make me long for more.  Those moments make me long for heaven, for my family to be complete once more.  Those are the moments when I get to "see" my daughter as she is.

I love her and I miss her.  Today is her day.

Happy Birthday, Sweet Clarissa!