I have two little angels – angelitos – waiting for me up in Heaven.
I would ten thousand times rather that they were sitting here, right now, in my arms but they were never destined to see the light of day, nor I the light of their eyes.
Today is the anniversary of a birthday that never came. Every year, I struggle with myself as December comes and goes. Should I mourn a life that barely flickered into a flame? Am I being uncharitable to my surviving children?
But, with time and the arrival of little T, I have made peace with the reality that I will always mourn the loss of my babies, however tiny. Intricately caught up in my unfailing belief that life begins at conception, I will not deny the reality of their existence, nor God’s decision to call them to His side just a few weeks after they winked into being.
It is so hard to see the rhyme or reason behind God’s decisions sometimes. I say sometimes. I could say oftentimes. Life can seem so very, very fragile. A puff of wind and a memory is all that lingers. Peace; better to have lived a moment, and been loved, than never to have lived at all.
How fleeting a life can be
A tiny bud of potentiality
A brief spurt of individuality
Stolen away, washed away
Drained away.
A mother’s love
Quarterised in its infancy
Blunted before its time
So ungracious, so very ugly
And so very very cold.
Brief weeks of intimacy
Immortality in the waiting
Until then, precious,
Here’s a tear at nightfall,
Here’s a smile at moonrise.
I whisper your name at dawn.
Though never shall I know you,
Always shall I love you.
Picture me, remember me.
Wait for me.
2nd May 2009
sophiahc 