My Sweet Little Bumble Bee. That is the last photo ever taken. It is our treasure.
For two years I have carted my constant companion, grief. She never fails to show up, and her presence is unwelcome. That I have met her and fostered such an intimate relationship is a fact I could live without. Our relationship is tenuous at best. She stabs me in my heart at every opportunity. She thrives on the surprise attack.
I try with all of my might to keep her at bay. The best I usually do is to remain in a state of a face to face standoff. I know she is there and I am doing what I can with every fiber of my being to keep going. In return she stands firm taunting me with each step I take. I feel that I do a decent job of carrying on. Some days grief works harder. Today, she did some of her best work.
Tomorrow is the two-year anniversary of Our Sweet Madeline’s death. I was prepared for tomorrow. Today, not so much.
Two years ago, November 1, 2010, was her last day of life. This is the thought that played on a loop in my head. What did we do together? I struggle to remember. Did I spend enough time with her? Did I hold her every chance I got. What about hugs and kisses? Were there enough? Is there ever enough?
I remember that evening sitting with her in our chair waiting for her night nurse. I knew of a little girl with down syndrome and shared the pictures with Madeline. Telling her she was going to be so strong just like that little girl someday. Had I only known our someday would never come. This was our day together, this was to be our final day together.
Grief changed her game on me today. Instead of how long it has been since Sweet Madeline died, I find my whole being aching for how long it’s been since she has lived.
Today is All Saints Day. I went to mass. Prepared to see the kindergartners dressed in their Saintly Attire. Not at all prepared for what hit. Never will Madeline be 5. Never will she go to kindergarten and NEVER will she march down the aisle to When the Saints go Marching In.
Through my tears I had a thought. She has done her march. I like to think she led the March……………the day God called her home.