Illuminate Week 2

Perhaps they are not stars,
but rather openings in heaven
where the love of our lost ones
pours through
and shines down upon us
to let us know they are happy.
--Eskimo Proverb

The darkness I have experienced with Julia's diagnosis and her passing has always been infiltrated with light. I think of it as a clear night sky. The darkness is there, certainly, but it cannot erase the brilliant light of a million stars. Julia's trisomy 18 diagnosis after birth and the constant not-knowing-how-many-days-we-would-have-together were the heavy darkness those first months. The stars were her hanging on and living and growing and responding. The stars were her smiles. The stars were our memories. The stars were her siblings who adored her. The stars were a new pregnancy while she was still with us. I - and we - were constantly trying to keep the darkness at bay by focusing on the stars. The darkness threatened to take over when she left us suddenly and unexpectedly. But I had to focus on the 382 days -- stars -- she gave us. I had to focus on the giant star of my rainbow baby due 5 months later. I was surrounded by the stars that are my oldest daughter and son and my husband and the friends and community brought to me by Julia. So, yes, the darkness has surrounded me. But not without the stars.

For the photography assignment this week, I chose my bird's nest necklace as my focal point. Each pearl represents one of my children. I love it. It was given to me by two dear friends who shared closely in Julia's life as well as in my life before and after Julia. I love to think of them as well when I wear it.

Soft overhead light, no flash

As I took each picture, I thought about how without enough light the focus can be off or blurry. That reminded me that when the darkness of grief starts to close in that I need to find another way to let in light so as to not lose my own focus. There must be a balance. It may take many many tries, but I will keep searching.

Window light

Overhead light, no flash

Backlit by window, no flash

Morning light outdoors

With flash

In this week's Illuminate class, the journal and photo assignment focused on light and dark and how we think about those concepts at this point in our journey. For our photos, we were to use different types and amounts of light to see how that changes our perspective.



















































































































*This post was originally created as an assignment for the Illuminate online photography course. For my week one post, click here.

A Star is Born

Well, not really born. Just named. We named a star with the International Star Registry in memory of Julia. Stars are another symbol that many people use to remind them of loved ones lost. Stars are far away-- unreachable, really, but they are there and we can see them. Even in seeing them we are really seeing light that took light years to reach us. I can imagine Julia that way -- she is there, but in an unreachable (for now) place. Although I cannot actually see her in real time, I can look around me and see the ripples and waves of light that she left behind her.

A star for you, my sweet one. Shine on.

Perhaps they are not stars,

but rather openings in heaven

where the love of our lost ones

pours through

and shines down upon us

to let us know they are happy.

--Eskimo Proverb

Ursa Major
RA9h45m28.80s D64º 36'26.14"

Day 10: Symbols

 Day 10: Symbols

Butterflies

"A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam, and for a brief moment,

it's glory and beauty belong to our world.

But then, it flies on again, and although we wish it could have stayed,

we feel blessed to have seen it."

- Author unknown

Photo by Carly Marie at Project Heal

Photo by Carly Marie at Project Heal

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. This national observance month was established in 1988 by President Reagan.  This post is part of Carly Marie's "Capture Your Grief" 31 day photography project for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.

One Month

Today it has been one month since we lost Julia. I have no words to adequately describe life without her. However, I found this piece on grief that seems significant to me.

Profound grief is like being in a stage play wherein suddenly the stagehands push a huge grand piano into the middle of the set. The piano paralyzes the play. It dominates the stage. No matter where you move, it impedes your sight lines, your blocking, your ability to interact with the other players. You keep banging into it, surprised each time that it's still there. It takes all your concentration to work around it, this at a time when you have little ability or desire to concentrate on anything.

The piano changes everything. The entire play must be rewritten around it.

But over time the piano is pushed to stage left. Then to upper stage left. You are the playwright, and slowly, surely, you begin to find the impetus and wherewithal to stop reacting to the intrusive piano. Instead, you engage it. Instead of writing every scene around the piano, you begin to write the piano into each scene, into the story of your life.

You learn to play that piano. You're surprised to find that you want to play, that it's meaningful, even peaceful to play it. At first your songs are filled with pain, bitterness, even despair. But later you find your songs contain beauty, peace, a greater capacity for love and compassion. You and grief -- together -- begin to compose hope. Who'da thought?

Your grief becomes an intimate treasure, though the spaces between the grief lengthen. You no longer need to play the piano every day, or even every month. But later, when you're 84, staring out your kitchen window on a random Tuesday morning, you welcome the sigh, the tears, the wistful pain that moves through your heart and reminds you that your child's life mattered.

You wipe the dust off the piano and sit down to play.

By Steven Kalas

One month down. A lifetime of months to go. I miss you, Julia, with every heart beat.

Quotes

The following is a sample of quotes I collected over the last year. Authors range from fictional characters to First Ladies and from bloggers to theologians. They speak truth to the journey I am on and give words to feelings I cannot always describe. Some express hope. Some express grief. All express love. These quotes resonate with me in some way and I hope they will with you, too.

"You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing you think you cannot do." Eleanor Roosevelt

"Hope is the ability to hear the music of the future. Faith is having the courage to dance to it today." Peter Kuzmic

"Sunday will come. After the Fridays of ur lives, Sunday always comes." From the blog of Rebekah Peterson (mom to 18 month old Aaron with trisomy 18)

"I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, but only more love." Mother Teresa

"Time does not heal all wounds. Love does. And there is a lot of love in my life." From the blog of Tanis Miller (mom of four, one of whom passed away suddenly at the age of 5)

"Has God brought you to a place of nothingness? Be still and know that He is really God. When this happens, your nothingness will be turned into something you will value for the rest of your life." Mother Teresa

"Sometimes the littlest things take up the most room in your heart." Winnie the Pooh

"Faith is risking what is for what is yet to be. It is taking small steps knowing they lead to bigger ones. Faith is holding on when you want to let go. It is letting go when you want to hold on. Faith is saying yes when everything else says no. It is believing all things are possible in the midst of impossibilities. Faith is looking beyond what is and trusting for what will be. It is the presence of God in all." author unknown

"There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love." Washington Irving

"For what we need to know, of course, is not just that God exists, but that there is a God right here in the thick of our day-to-day lives. Who in one way or another is trying to get messages through our blindness as we move around down here knee-deep in the fragrant muck mad misery and marvel of the world." Frederick Buechner

"What we have once, we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us." Helen Keller

"They say that time in heaven is compared to the blink of an eye for us on earth. Sometimes it helps me to think of my child running ahead of me through a beautiful field of wildflowers and butterflies; so happy and completely caught up in what she is doing that when she looks behind her, I'll already be there." author unknown

"Why did I suffer sharp pains of inward grief? It must have been the fresh wound caused by the break in the habit formed by our living together, a very affectionate and precious bond suddenly torn apart...Now that I had lost the immense support she gave, my soul was wounded, and my life as it were torn to pieces, since my life and hers had become a single thing." Augustine (Thanks to Jamey for this one.)

I love and miss you, Sweet Pea...so much.