Hank and I returned to camp for the first time in 2 months. The last time we were here was Memorial Day weekend, the weekend that we celebrated Sydney’s birthday and (ironically) comforted her and reassured her when she came into our room sobbing because of a nightmare she had. A nightmare that Norah died…
I was terrified to come here, for fear of unsettled feelings within my place of peace. But I knew I had to face it, and I prayed for God to give me what I needed.
When we walked in, the familiar place had a calming sadness hovering within. Silence, emptiness; so different than any other time we’ve walked in. There sat her bouncy chair, her diapers, her empty bassinet. We sobbed. We hugged. We held each other as we faced another first, and remembered another last.
After getting things up and running again we sat in our favorite rocking chairs on the deck, in silence. Suddenly, something hit me. For the first time in 42 days, I was experiencing life without crushing chest pain. I was able to breath deeply again. For 24 hours, I was able to really see the moon, and feel the fire, and bask in the sun, and smile. Thank you, God!
Unfortunately, that temporary peace was just that, temporary. I thought I was prepared for that. I wasn’t. Sometime in the middle of the night, after about 24 hours of God and Mother Nature providing me with peace, my excruciating pain, heavy guilt, weeping, and vomiting returned.
But for 24 glorious hours, I was able to smile and feel something other than soul crushing heartache. For this I’m thankful.