Saturday, December 27, 2014

Addition to Right where I am

Also, I don't want to be in pictures right now.  It feels like a way to document what's missing.  See, Heather there with her empty arms?  I hate faking a smile; it seems like a betrayal to my daughter.

A while ago, Justin and I said we take way too many photos of Ben.  Like, enough already, with the Iphone always handy.  Too many to possibly count and keep track of.  But in the last 7 weeks, I think we have increased our photo count.  I don't hear about too many people who are on their deathbed saying, "I wish I took fewer photos of my child."

But right now, the family photos feel so pervasively wrong.

So I was grateful on Christmas Eve, when my sister didn't push us for a family photo, even though it's a tradition.  She did ask, the next day, if we could take a photo of the grandparents with their grandkids and I teared up a bit.  But then, we took this:

And it felt good to include Lydie.


  1. I'm glad you included her. These little things - they matter. It's not what it should be, but it's something.

  2. <3 I'm so glad she was included. As she should be.

  3. I've read through your story and many posts - shockingly, without crying but with lots I want to say - until this one. When my eyes filled with tears and a sob burst out. Maybe because I just reached the limit of feeling so much of what you've written again so freshly, so viscerally even though it's been 5 years since we lost Anna. But I think it's more that your sister was not only sensitive enough to not push for the traditional photo & find a way to take one that was acceptable to you, but then…for the whole family to welcome taking a picture that included Lydie the only way you can. Because oh my god I'm telling you, the desire to include her as an active, significant and permanent member of your family will never go away. Finding a way to include her can be difficult for some, more difficult for other family members or friends who are (god forbid) uncomfortable with it. I'm deeply touched that your family so wonderfully includes your daughter, and resonate even more with how important it is for your heart.
    Also….I think seeing her tiny hand and footprints in the sweet setting within the frame hit hard. Shouldn't, I've seen many and have my own daughter's prints, but it's ANOTHER sweet, beloved child that isn't here and Jesus-H it somehow represents the horrible grief that never goes away. The missing them. The wishing, the horror, the w-a-n-t-i-n-g of a life that will never be what it once was, or should have been.
    I want to go back and comment on at least a dozen posts that you've written, and hopefully life will bend itself to allow it. Meanwhile, know that everything you've written so far is, as Brooke said, so achingly familiar. More than aching. PTSDing-ly familiar. You are not alone.
    And here, in this space, there will always be women who will remember Lydia and how important she is and will forever be.


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