Seven Hundred and Thirty Days {The House That Grief Built}.
First there came The Grief. A rather nondescript word for an unbearable state of being. For all the positivity, the gratitude, the lessons learned, I have spent many, many days completely lost in nothing but grief. I previously had no understanding of the depth of sorrow I could feel. Grief strips you bare and engulfs your every thought. It makes remembering excruciating, it erases the joy of the present, it steals the future you had come to expect. And you are quite certain it will never end. It is, quite simply, brutal.
And then it becomes all about time. One month since..a lifetime until.. Thinking backwards and forwards, in every waking moment. I was told, whilst still stumbling around blind in the New Universe, that it would be at least two years before life would seem normal again. I could not fathom it. Not two whole years. Not with the pain and fear and yearning. And beyond that? Then what? A lifetime of watered down More Of The Same? Please God, no. I found that thinking before or after the present day only filled one with terror so it was best not to. One minute at a time. And then an hour. And then, surprisingly, whole days at once.
Then, somewhere along the way, I discovered the unbearable is not forever. The missing stays. The yearning and the wishing and the wondering. They’re all there. But the unrelenting pain? No. As cruel as grief is, it’s also kind enough to allow the agony to recede. The unbearable sorrow has eased. And not simply because of time. More, I believe, because of the love and endless support of friends and family. The honoring, the remembering, the sharing of the harder days, the tributes and the love that are shown to us, and to Ava, every single day of these past two years. They have made a difference. And when the searing pain visits, it’s okay. It’s my time with Ava. Her memories play like slide shows, I hear her voice, I feel her.
I’ve learned to cherish. For all of the heartache, a little bit of appreciation counters a lot. To remember how very, very lucky we are – to have each other, to have Ava’s siblings, to have a life to look forward to. To celebrate her three years on Earth, to feel so lucky we were chosen as her parents. To hear my children creating chaos and feel so incredibly blessed..a gift I can’t describe. I no longer fret about the insignificant, I’m too busy just being thankful. Before losing Ava, cherish was in my list of favorite words. Now it’s my favorite way to live each day.
And, oh, the beauty. I could write a book about the incredible beauty and compassion of people. It astounds me, honestly. I am constantly overwhelmed by generosity, care, thoughtfulness and acts of love for our family. Today, again, I am carried by so many hands, seen and unseen. And, again, I’m struggling to convey just how grateful we are. For remembering our pain, for honoring our darling girl, for reaching out – every single one of you – thank you.
Two years. Like no other. An eternity and the blink of an eye. I took the images above ten days after her funeral. I wanted to capture the awfulness. I shot just two frames, frustrated that the haze cleared before I could take more. Now when I see them, they fit perfectly.
Thank. You.
74 shared sentiments
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It’s too cold here in Wisconsin for balloons. I tried to think of something pink, something pretty, a thought to send to Ava today.
This was the best I could do:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/7522255@N06/3257619348/Over a year ago, I was linked somehow to your site and your story. Your eloquent documentation of all the agony and elation of day-to-day is truly a gift to all who visit your blog, all who look at your photographs. You’re a gift to all of us. Ava is a gift to everyone. My daughter is old enough, now, not to need Ava’s rule anymore, but I’ve passed it along to other mamas who have younger ones. Bless you and your family. And thank you.
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I just stumbled upon your blog a couple of days ago, and tears streamed down my face as I read of you and your precious Ava. I have young children and to imagine life without one of them is unbearable, my heart is so heavy for you and your family. I know you don’t know me, but I wanted you to know you are in my thoughts and prayers. Thank you for sharing your story with so many. Thank you for helping me “cherish” life, my children, the simple little moments. You will be with your little angel again. What an amazing Mother you are.
Much love,
Sherice in Utah
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Thank you Sheye for sharing your heart.
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Like so many others, I don’t know you, but I came across your blog soon after Ava died, and this week have found myself thinking of you and of her, and of all who are living the unimaginable. I catch myself often, caught up in the frustrations of parenting, and I think of you. You have given me strength, and a healthy dose of fear, for I know how quickly all that I have can be taken away. I’m so sorry you had to lose Ava to inspire others, but you have, and you do, and I thank you.
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ava is never ever far from my thoughts. i wish peace and warmth to you and your family sheye. your girl is beauty. your girl is cherished. our lives are blessed because you share your heart. xo m.
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Sheye, once again you have exactly captured the essence of it. I could never hope to express it so eloquently. As always, I’m so sorry for your loss (I will always be sorry). Many hugs and prayers for you and your family. Two years, but a drop in the bucket, and yet, an eternity. Time is such a funny funny thing…
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My heart is with you and your family.
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I so appreciate how you have shared your daughter and the grief with so many in such a beautiful way. I love the title of the post and how gracious you are about every moment of her life being a gift to you.
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Your words are more beautiful than ever…Ava couldn’t have had a happier life than she had with you {her family}. I posted a blog in memory of Ava if you want to stop by and read it. Thank you for your honesty, wisdom and beautiful photography…
-Desiree
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Thinking of you Sheye ~
Sending love and hugs as always XXXXX
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sheye,
wow. two years. thank you for sharing your thoughts today.
the other widows i talk to for comfort tell me that the second year is worse than the first when grieving a spouse. i am right in the thick of it. i am hoping to prove that wrong. i am trying not to let my second year be worse than my first… but i feel and see what they are saying… daily.
we will see.
i love that you are helping the world to know who ava is and how precious her three years on earth were. i am glad you are ‘cherishing’ your days. that is all we can do when we have lost such precious people to us.
leslie *
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Your words are so honest and beautiful Sheye-your bravery astounds me.
Love to you all
Meganxx
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Thinking of you and your beautiful family, always. xoxo
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Sheye you are helping so many hurting and grieving people with your openness and honesty.
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Sheye, You, your family and especially your angel girl Ava have been in my thoughts and prays. Your super princess has truly touched and changed so many people in our world. Your thoughts are always so well described with your elequent words. Please be comforted that Ava is thought of the world over by so many people. My sister lost a child many years ago and she says that she will never forget as none of our family will but time has eased her broken heart.
Love and heartfelt hugs. XXXXOOOO
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Sheye, Thinking of you and your family. You have influenced my daily life by sharing your wisdom…I am a better mother (more patient and appreciative) to my little possums because of you and your insights; I pass on Ava’s rule to others; and I never look at lounges on the side of the road in quite the same way anymore. Thank you for sharing your knowledge. Love Kylie XXXXX
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I first stumbled upon your blog and your beautiful Ava in June of last year. Since then, not too many weeks have passed that I haven’t thought of you and the SuperPrincess. Thank you for sharing so honestly…I’ve learned to be more patient and to cherish the everyday moments with my little pumpkin even more because of you. Praying extra comfort over your family during this week…Hugs from Louisiana, Jessica
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There are no words…only endless love for you, for your beautiful family and your beautiful Ava.
Keren
xx
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I first came across your blog this time last year, and while I have never commented before, I have thought of your family often in this past year, and especially in this past week. The love that you have for your precious Ava and your beautiful family, and the way you express it, is really inspiring and has helped me to become a better mum. Your photography also inspires me and while I am not yet capturing memories with quite the skill that you do, I am trying and getting better. May your family be surrounded by love as you remember your special girl this week, and always.
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Sheye, so much love is being sent from Chicago. Your sweet, sweet darling Ava is held so tightly in my own heart. She lives here, too, because of your words and the light from your torch. I still will never be grateful enough for the lovely email you sent me back about our own wee girl’s loss. The sisterhood in the family tree of grief is such a crazy source of strength. While I’m sure you feel nothing like an inspiration, please know you do exhibit such grace to those around you and I really need lovelies like you in my life right now.
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Sheye,
You and your family are in my thoughts so incredibly often. The way I see my children and my life is forever altered. My heart aches for you every day. Thankyou, as always for sharing your precious Ava with us.
xox
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My good friend sent me a link to this yesterday. Yesterday was 2 years and 2 months for us.
Our daughter died from SIDS at 8 weeks old in Dec 2006.
You have a way with words, that I am jealous of. I struggle to express how I feel from day to day and reading this summed it up for me. Everything you said resonated perfectly with me and also made me feel less alone.
I spoke in detail about this to my husband last night. We spoke about your comment “And when the searing pain visits, it’s okay. It’s my time with Ava. Her memories play like slide shows, I hear her voice, I feel her.”
Its okay to have that special time, where it hurts. Where you just want to cry. For that moment I am Ashleighs mum. Not to take away from my other children, but just in that moment it is her and I.
Yes, 2 years on it isnt quite so painful. Its certainly not every day – I think of her everyday and so does our son but some days its all about the happy memories.
I am so sorry you lost your special girl. She is a beautiful girl and i can see how many lives she has touched by the comments here on your blog.
May you have peaceful days – thank you so much for your eloquent words, sharing your deep thoughts and feelings in what can be such a private time.
Much love from my family to yours
Michelle
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Люди люди люди нам даже могут предложить и закурить
GFDGD
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I love seeing in frames, I love the beauty in the ordinary, I love my camera, I love that when I see images I hear too. I love the latelight, I love finding moments I didn’t imagine and I love creating moments I did. I love learning more every day, I love sharing what I’ve come to know, and I love making pictures pretty.
I’m so glad you stopped by. xx
You are brilliant.