Thursday, April 02, 2009

I have a vision of Charlotte in my head. She is sitting on my lap so I'm just inches from her sweet little face, and she isn't wearing oxygen. She is smiling, her hands are on my shoulders, and she is wearing the pink shirt her dad got her with big flowers that I accidentally drew on with black sharpie while wrapping it for Christmas. And black pants. And bicals, her signature shoe. Here's the best part--she laughs like she always did, and then says happily "Mommy!" like it's the most natural thing in the world.

It seems like last year the winter went on and on, too, doesn't it? I remember sitting on this very couch looking out at the wind and wet and grayness, and getting all weepy because I wanted spring so badly. I was pregnant and had just thrown up and wanted to just go for a walk outside for heaven's sake. The next thing I knew it was the blazing hot summer and I was desperate for a little cold rain.
This year it seems the spring has come and gone back into winter. I am grateful there was a little spring, way back a month ago around the days Charlotte passed. The day she went home the sky was blindingly blue, and the sun through the car window on the way home was warm and I focused on that and not the empty carseat behind me. The sun came out the day of her funeral while we were at the cemetery and for a few minutes it was surprisingly warm and beautiful out. I sat in that folding chair in my black wool coat, clutching a white teddy bear and a pink tulip and felt as cozy as if I were just waking up in bed with Charlotte snuggled between my husband and I. And there were a few days it was gorgeous out, and with birds singing in the trees around us we went up to her grave and covered it with with beads and plastic Easter eggs and more tulips.
It is as if it is winter again. Picturing her grave under snow makes me sad. I picture the colors on her lollipop headstone running as it melts and refreezes again. The first month was full of sun and joy and happy tears for remembering her goodness. These past few days I feel left behind and cold. It is such a long weary road home. The least I could use is a little sun.
My hope lies in Easter. The year I was pregnant with Charlotte, I remember Easter feeling so much more holy than ever before, because it applied so directly to my baby and I. The rebirth. Triumph over the grave. The bright springtime sun and the forsythia and the empty tomb.
Oh I hope the spring arrives by Easter this year. I am in the midst of the days of darkness and sorrow. I will wait for the morning of the third day.


Lacey said...

I continue to keep you in my prayers, and hope that spring will hurry up and get here.

Amanda said...

I was thinking the other day about the beautiful blue sky and sun at the cemetery the day of Charlotte's funeral. And then I was thinking about how much she would have wanted the sun to be out for all of us. For you, especially. The only good thing about the cold right now is that Spring will come. When you need it the most.

I was also thinking about when Jack started "talking" (babbling more like). He started a few days after Charlotte passed away. And when he is staring at the wall or ceiling just babbling away, I am CONVINCED that he is talking to Boofus. Telling her about how crazy our latest lunch date was and how he thinks his Mama and Aunt Erin are completely nuts. And I think Boofus is saying, "Buddy, you've only seen 7 months of it. I had to watch them for 3 and a half years! You ain't seen nothin' yet." And then they both start giggling and she tells Jack she has to go to check on Ella and make her giggle too.

Michelle said...


I came across this site and thought of you and Charlotte. For what it's worth, I thought I'd share it with you:

Shannon said...

I love you Erin- I don't even have the words to say what I am feeling...but I love you.

April said...

I know that you don't know me, but I just want you to know that my heart is aching for you. I'll pray for some sunshine for you!

Emily said...


I just wanted to let you know that you are in our thoughts and prayers. Words really can't express how sorry I am for you that little, beautiful Charlotte has passed. I cannot even imagine what you and Zar must be going through. I have been so impressed by your blog (I just stumbled on it tonight). It is so moving to read of your incredible faith and strength! I am sure that the spring will come, just as you wrote about it. We will be praying that it does.

I still remember talking to Julie at a party when she was holding Charlotte, and you walked up and Charlotte's whole face lit up and she began laughing! Her love and attachment to you was so evident. I am sure her life was filled with happy, wonderful moments with you and Zar and her little sister. I am sure your reunion with her one day will be glorious.

All my love,
Emily Jardine Burdette

heidi said...

Just wanted to let you know that I am someone who will be praying for your family during this difficult time. Your faith and hope is inspiring.

Becky said...

you've left me with tears in my eyes. Erin...I can't even imagine how difficult this time for you must be. I guess the word that comes to mind is HOPE. Hope that spring will be here soon, hope that you can make it through another day without your beautiful Charlotte, hope that this pain will somehow ease...just a bit. I'm thinking about you, praying for you and loving you from afar!