Today marks 9 months. Nine unthinkable, unbearable months since your devastating loss. How can it be? How is it that in just a few - three - months we'll be facing the one year "anniversary"? And, at the same time we will be welcoming your little brother into the world, into our family. In the midst of settling into a lifetime of sorrow, we have also found a reason for hope.
My grief is deep tonight. Too deep to express or share. Peanut, you know. You feel it. I share this very personal sorrow with only you tonight.
Instead, I choose to share a poem from Anne Morrow Lindbergh. She wrote this 10 years after the kidnapping and murder of her beloved 18-month old son, Charles Jr. This poem was her very personal way of expressing how her deep grief transformed over the years and eventually gave birth to hope and love. My inspiration.
The milk ungiven in the breast
When the child is gone?
The love locked up in the heart
That is left alone?
That golden yield
Split sod once, overflowed an August field,
Threshed out in pain upon September's floor,
Now hoarded high in barns, a sterile store.
Break down the bolted door;
Rip open, spread and pour
The grain upon the barren ground
Wherever crack in clod is found.
There is no harvest for the heart alone;
The seed of love must be
Peanut, I love you so very, very much. I miss you in ways I can't describe or explain. I can only hope you feel my love. To the moon and back.