Thursday, September 18, 2008

I Miss My Girls

There are still things that catch me off guard. I've gotten very savvy with my grief. I'm pretty good at putting my pain on hold; attending to it when I can't ignore it anymore. Grieving is exhausting . . . but entirely necessary and healing.

Tonight I unpacked a container of clothes. As I was putting them away I saw my shoes. The shoes I wore on the day of Ellie and Kate's funeral. I haven't seen them since that day. I put them on and tended to my broken heart.

I desperately try to imagine Ellie and Kate in my mind as they would be today. I imagine how their voices would sound. I try to picture how they would hold a pencil as they do their homework. Simple things I only have my imagination to give me.

There's a chill in the air - the first of many reminders of that day. Sometimes I need to write - to open up a wound I know will never completely heal. I need my girls to hear my words and see my tears and know they make me proud. They make me strong.

I am blessed. I now get to put away my shoes and tuck in three beautiful children. I also get to talk to Ellie and Kate in my prayers and see them in my dreams. Good night.


Gillian said...

I stumbled on your blog awhile back and am amazed at how eloquently and accurately you write about the grief of losing a child. I lost my first son and albeit under different circumstances, I could have written this post. It's amazing that as a Mother to living children and children who have passed away, how gracefully we can move between those worlds. I can pull out my son's scrapbook, touch the blanket he came home from the hospital in, cry quietly in a closet and then come out wipe the nose of my living child, pick up toys, bathe and tuck my sweetheart into bed without blinking. Thanks for writing this. I think you are so right to say that the wound never heals. It's like a scar on your body, it doesn't hurt as intensely as it did, but when we really think about how it got there, it's almost as fresh. May God continue to bless you and your three little wonders. P.S. The scripture on the left side of your blog, got me through some of the worst days of my life...days when I felt I would literally melt.

Jennie said...

Lovely Alana...those girls are proud of you, too. I'm going to take their mama shoe shopping at the Nordstrom sale when it comes around this fall. Your friends love "walking on" behind you and Bob. Let's do it in style.

I lit a candle for you when I read your post...and it was still burning when you and dear Meg came over.

...and your tuna salad is still in my fridge.

In Admiration, and With Love, Jennie

Tech Savvy Mama said...

Oh I remember when I first heard of the accident and what happened to you and your girls. Knowing you then and now keeping in touch through your blog, I am always amazed at your incredible strength and ability to express your thoughts about your girls. Wishing you many sweet dreams, Leticia

Kathleen said...

Alana, I will be thinking of you before I go to sleep tonight and will say a prayer for you and your girls. When I check on my son, like I usually do, I'll be thinking of you as well, and treasuring the time I get to spend with his little soul.

Lynn from said...


Once again, my condolences to you. I think there is no greater pain than to lose a child, and I cannot even begin to imagine what you have been through.

You tackle the pain with grace.

May God bless you.


Alana said...

I have no words, but I do hope you have sweet dreams of your girls often and that they are a comfort to you. I pray peace for you.

jamisims said...

You bless me, Alana.
Jami Stanford Sims