Wednesday's Woe
When You "See" Her... But It's Not Her
~Tommy Prince
What do you do when you see your daughter's walk, you see her hair, you see her clothes, but it's not her? Yesterday, I saw a girl who from behind was Merry Katherine. I never saw her from the front. Before when that would happen I was so raw I would almost collapse in the store; I would be overwhelmed with a tsunami wave of grief and barely would be able to make it back to the car.
Interestingly, this time, it was a little different; coming up on the seventh year, it is a little different. I found myself wanting to follow her through the produce; it gave me a little lift ~ oh yeah, that's what she looks like. I guess my defenses are working better because instead of feeling like I was going to lose it, when I noticed a little welling up begin, I was able to break away as soon as I got to the carrots. I was surprised at how much better I dealt with it.
It was more like a sense of relief that I was able to get a little glimpse of her, and I didn't feel like it was going to devastate me for the next three days. But then again, I'm glad I don't know what she looked like…
~Journey of the Survivor (From Grief to Survival)
The first time we experienced this phenomenon, Angie and I were first taking our walk down the beach after sundown, when a young lady walked past us, a little closer to the ocean than we were. At first Angie didn't notice her, but I told her to turn around and see, and when she did, she mostly could see her long curly hair that was almost the same texture and color as Merry Katherine's. Then we both about fell down in grief. It was in October, just two months after the day our baby had been killed. It was the same beach she had walked many times, and it all just felt so normal and real. It was in the evening, right at dusk and I just cried uncontrollably, but was glad no one but Angie could see. It was instant, and there was no controlling it. Of course, Angie had her own share of tears streaming down as well…
~Julia's Creations
Maya Angelou quote, thanks to ~Out of the Ashes
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