Thursday, June 17, 2010
For awhile I had a real issue with falling asleep at night after Charlotte passed away. About a month after she left and I came down off of my other-worldly faith high, I started remembering all the bad times and the images that went with them. I'd get myself all worked up and couldn't relax.
I don't have that problem anymore.
The past few nights I've been remembering happy times, and the associated images, and it's been almost as bad. I shouldn't say that. It's good, it's good to remember and feel and grieve and heal but it's hard too. But it's an ongoing process, and that's where I am right now.
During the summer of 2007 before I was giant and pregnant with Ella and it was just Charlotte, I would take her on my days off up Millcreek canyon in the jogging stroller. I would park at a trail head and then push her up the road for about a mile and a half. I had long mourned the end of my hiking days, and this was my way of getting for myself, and giving her, a taste of that. Charlotte would be all coated with bug spray and sunscreen and I would soak her hat in water beforehand so she wouldn't overheat, and we would walk. She would sit back and look around and I would give her a leafy twig to hold and she would make bored clicking sounds with her tongue. When we got to our predetermined spot I would turn us around, loop the stroller leash around my wrist, and we would run. Well...we would jog, slowly, back down the canyon, but with enough speed that she would lean forward until she was resting against the safety bar and she would laugh the whole way down. That would make me go faster and I would laugh at her hilarious belly laughs, sometimes having to wipe my eyes and nearly veering into the canal to our left. Back at the car she would be smiley and content and we would both catch our breath. It was a good little work out for both of us. I'm so glad I had that time with her, that just us time before her siblings came. I really put an effort into her experiencing things, which I am so grateful for.
And that memory, last night, is what kept me up.
Luckily, my body knows, being pregnant and having a newborn and a toddler, that sleep is at a premium and nowadays, being "kept up" means 30 minutes and not all night. But it was a hard 30 minutes, half not wanting to remember her goofy smile because I just wanted sleep, and the other half just wallowing, happily, in the memory of her.