Joe and I vacationed in Hawaii a few years ago. We stayed in these little cottages that were once part of a sugar cane plantation. They sit alongside a black sand beach. On my mantel, I have a glass jar that contains sea shells from our various trips to the islands and a small amount of black sand from that beach. I’m considering bagging it up and sending it someone in Hawaii to return to the island. There is a superstition that if you take lava rock from the islands, you’ll anger the Goddess Pele and bad luck will follow you. After your child dies, you will look for any explanation of why it happened. Find a reason for the unreasonable. You need something, someone to blame– even yourself– because there is no way to really understand. Because losing your baby does not make any sense. Call it crazy, call it irrational. Try to convince me it’s not anyone’s fault. That it’s not my fault. Actually, don’t. I know all of this. But sometimes I just need someone to listen.
Thank your for reading the past 31 days. The Capture Your Grief project has helped me find my voice. I intend to keep writing, but likely not on a daily basis. Thank you to those who took time to really read– to really listen. You’ve helped me more than I can ever tell you. To those of you who read it but still don’t really get what I’m saying, I don’t think I can help you at this point. There’s a time to release the parts of your life that are not helping you on your journey and I’m fine with that now. I’m surrounded by love. It’s an amazing, soul-rebuilding feeling. I will have good days. I will have bad days. And I am so blessed to have some incredible people to stand by me for both.