Yesterday was Earth Day.
For those of you who know my story, you know why that day is important to me. Three years have passed since we lost our twins. Three years have passed since I discovered that there really is something beautiful to be found after we die. Three years have passed.
I feel a little bit like a war veteran who has just come home. I've seen things the "normal" people around me have not seen. Felt things they haven't felt. Questioned things they never thought to question. Been through things I hope they never have to go through.
I'm a changed being. Tender. A little frayed around the edges. Bruised. Scarred. Maimed.
But I'm here.
Yesterday, we spent the day walking. Talking. In the seclusion of river, woods and fields, we found some laughter, shared tears, memories...
We took turns holding our rainbow girl. How healing is the presence and solid vibrancy of a rainbow baby! In moments of intensity...heart breaking longing...we would hold her close. Feel her skin. Thanking life for giving her to us. And then, blinking back tears in the knowledge that some of our fellow sisters and brothers of the loss world have not been given the opportunity to feel that comforting balm. It pains me so deeply to think that such a painful void would remain empty for so many.
In that...I know I am ever so lucky.
I don't say blessed at the moment, because that would imply that someone decided I was worthy of my girl, while others remain unworthy...and that, to put it bluntly...is solid horse-shit.
I am lucky.
So very very lucky.
I wanted to thank everyone who put Simon and Alexander in their hearts yesterday. I wanted to thank the people who called...who sent cards...flowers....gifts... I wanted to thank the people who took pictures and drew their names in the sand. Thank you. It isn't blood that defines family. It's love. It's thoughtfulness. It's holding someone's hand in support. You are the people who do that for me. You are my family.
I love you for that.