The last few days have been rough. Actually, the last two months, the last year…have been rough. But the last few days I have either been awake at 4am or unable to go to sleep at bedtime. My mind has been wandering and racing. And not to the good, beautiful memories, but to the ones that hurt. The last night of her life. Handing her over. I try to drown them out and redirect. I’m only occasionally successful. I can’t even pinpoint a trigger. It doesn’t help that Joe has been out of town for the last two weeks so when I’d usually reach over to touch him or ask for a hug, I come up empty.
Tonight I’m cuddling my “Zoey bear” instead of my daughter. She’s the bear I ordered from the Molly Bears organization. She weighs 6.1 pounds. Zoey’s weight at birth. Zoey weighed nearly the same amount when she died. When I first picked up the box the bear arrived in, it felt too heavy. But the longer I hold her, the more she feels like my baby girl. I sobbed the first time I held her like I held Zoey. I so miss her weight against my chest. A stuffed bear can’t replace Zoey, but I’m thankful for something to cuddle– and isn’t she wonderful with her little tutu and anchor on her chest?
I’m also thankful for my friends who have been sharing their Zoey stories with me. One friend looked to Zoey for strength after a marathon and stumbled across the Anchor Bar & Grill. Another told me how Zoey stopped by in a dream wearing sparkly pink boots. Amazing how you can cry and smile at the same time!
I’m focusing on training for my run and am working yoga into my routine. I’m hoping to quiet my mind and work on that “peace”. I continue to be amazed at the love and support I receive. It helps me get through those sleepless times and helps me keep hope for finding my way.