Sunshining.
Today, like many a Spring day, the sun did shine. And today, I got up from being inside and I went outside and sat in the warmth. I chose the sunniest spot and I watched her brothers and sister play in the pool and I listened to them squeal while I inhaled the scent of freshly cut grass. Today I thought of how she should be here and I thought of the days she was here and all the missing things I normally think. And also, today, for a few brief moments I felt it. Just a little excitement that Summer is around the corner and then I felt that funny mix of happiness and relief and a sadness that life does in fact go on.
I always was a warm weather girl. As a child, I loved everything the sunnier months brought – bbq’s by the creek with family, hours spent on the slip n slide, ice-cream. At 18, when I moved to the Gold Coast (Australia’s answer to Miami), the warm weather meant the beach every day and parties at night. I married beside the ocean in beautiful sunlight and as a mother, I loved watching my own babies play outside in Summer, soaking up the sunshine and goodness. As Winter rolled around each year, I’d miserably shiver my way through an unbearable three months, all the while searching for an alternative to Havianas. The cold, it’s just not me.
And then came the Summer of 2007, beginning like every other Australian Summer and ending like nothing we’d ever known. The loss of our darling Ava. Instantly and dramatically, my love of warmer weather was no more. It became the other 9 months of the year that I found unbearable. Grief just brings such incredible sensitivity to the most normal of things and when the sun shone brightly, I struggled to even step outside.
To sit out in the sunshine today..a simple nothing that felt like a simple everything. Like so many other moments in a strange journey. When it’s hard, it feels impossible but sometimes easy feels impossible too. Along the way, I want to share my days and my photos and my thoughts with you..and I want to tell you how the ordinary is still anything but ordinary but then I hesitate. The truth is, I sometimes struggle to know how to include Ava. Not in our day to day life..there she nestles comfortably in our conversations and memories. It’s here, I wonder. Where I once wrote pages through the tears and shared without thinking, I now sit in hesitation wondering what even makes sense. It’s hard when I share only random snippets of life. I’m not sure if it seems disjointed. Do my stories of life with grief seem out of place in the every day?
The thing is, I can’t do smalltalk. If you know me in real life, I much prefer real conversation. I can’t make stuff up. It’s the same here. I want to keep it real but still share the everyday and then I’m back to the bit where my every day still looks different to most. My every day is not like it was before Summer 2007 and it’s not like it was for a long while after. It’s something different again..and yes, it’s largely about the balance of sorrow and gratitude but it’s also about raising children and wanting more children and dreaming with my love and taking photos and time with friends. It’s about everything that I knew with Ava and everything I’ve learned without her and trying to move forward but never wanting to forget. If it seems disjointed, it’s probably because it is. When your days and your relationships and all your waking thoughts are filtered with a different and sometimes complex perspective, it takes work to turn that into everyday words. I can’t take the filter off and I wouldn’t want to but still, sometimes it’s kind of hard to see out.
Thanks for waiting on the other side.
Sheye xx
32 shared sentiments
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your! damn. i’m all frazzled after moving and not sleeping but i can’t let bad grammar go.
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You… them… it… it’s ALL worth the wait. :)
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dear sheye,
those photos are just so beyond beautiful.
I love that you share your heart. I will never forget Ava,
so I always expect to hear about her in bits & pieces.
you of course are expected to go on living, different in many ways,
never to be the same. you give exactly what I expect to see. the good times, the bad times, the hard times, the real times and most especially the love.
I will never forget your darling ava.
xoxo
tara
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Dear Sheye,
Of course it’s disjointed. As is your mind, surely? We are here accepting whatever you choose to share; dreams, wishes, memories and realities.
xx
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beautifully you breathe in and you breathe out. beautifully you put one foot in front of the other. beautifully you honor your baby in the most powerful of ways. please know we keep darling ava close in our hearts and while life does go on around us there are moments that annie and i remember that darling little girl that has forever touched our hearts through her mommy’s stunning words and photographs. bits and pieces of the beauty that is ava. bits and pieces of your heart shared. i forever hold my hand out to you and wish so very much things could be different. your family is lovely as are you. xoxo meg {ps – annie wanted me to tell you that she loves ava so very much – her words xo}
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It is your heartfelt words, your passion, your everyday and the way you share your life is what keeps us coming back. The peek into your life, the fact that you are real, everyday and living you don’t gloss over the not so fun bits and you just share. We can all relate to parts and we love to share. Continue to share the way you always have and we will be hear waiting to listen. Much love.
PS it was lovely to see sweet Ava’s face, I haven’t seen her in a while
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Do your stories with grief seem out of place in the every day? No. The answer is no. Maybe to someone who hasn’t known grief, (lucky souls) but not to those who’ve loved and lost. It all seems perfectly understandable. Thanks for being brave and honest with your feelings Sheye, I know it brings comfort to many. xoxo
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Ava bought many of us here, and I hope you continue to share her and all your thoughts on your beautiful girl. She has touched so many hearts <3
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I have only just been introduced to your website via link on facebook by The Maternal Lens. Just a few minutes browsing around, and I can feel the love that surrounds your memories of your sweet girl. I am so sorry for the grief you are destined to live with, but am amazed at the beauty you share, despite your grief. Thank you for bearing your soul. I look forward to reading more about your journey. And, I feel the wheels of inspiration turning already after stumbling across Ava’s Tea Party. :)
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never filter. so much love to you , today & always. jules xo
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you write what you feel and that makes perfect sense. so lovely.
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Sheye,
The writing and the photos bring healing. Grief. Living in it, under it, breathing it in and pushing through to a new day and a new emotion is all you can do. You should never make small talk, it’s a waste of time and doesn’t really mean anything anyway. Don’t worry about editing yourself. Be. Write. Heal when you can. Carry on. Love. Live. Remember.
Every word you write helps me to heal just a little bit too.
Thank you beautiful girl.
xoxo, Michelle Thomas
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My heart hurts with you.
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We live with grief, it is not a separate part of our lives but one which has its say in everything. If it is in your heart and you want to share it then why not? It does wane but it never goes completely.
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Sheye,
As I read this, my chest honestly hurts. As soon as the post began, I instantly saw Ava in my mind, wearing her floaties, about to leap. I thought of how she should be with you…. I think that every single day.
“…but sometimes easy feels impossible too”. I often think of how this is so true for you. How something we all take for granted would be so difficult for you to enjoy… enjoy without any missing that is.
Never in my life has an individual, apart from my children of course, had such an impact on me as a person as your Super Princess. She really will never ever be forgotten.
x
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If people didn’t want to read about your loves & your loses, your ups & your downs, your heart aches & your happiness … then they wouldn’t come to your blog or your fb or your twitter. If we didn’t care, we wouldn’t be here. I don’t know you from a bar of soap, but i love everything about you! Does that sound disjointed? xx
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Disjointed is the pulling apart, and writing sometimes helps bring it all back together. The clock ticks and the moments carry her wistfully on wings, surrounding you and your family, sometimes so present you could reach out and touch her, sometimes further from our thoughts whilst she plays with other angels, laughing and creating their own games, high in the sky, but never far, and always, always with their beautiful hearts bursting with their pure love for all those they watch down on. And all that is shared is raw, and real, and necessary for others to learn from. And this is life, and it isn’t fair, and we grieve and I grieve for you. You are amazing. One day we will all share that sky with her, we hope. x
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It is just not fair she is not still here. Your writing and images change us all, I could honestly look at the one of her floating in the water for a very long time.
xxx
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every time I visit and read your words…I nod and smile…life is a funny mix of emotions.
I have a week like that…I have watched my youngest enjoy many of the moments her brother in heaven did…I like the connections between the then and now…it is all I have so I will take what I can and make the most :)I posted on my blog about a connection…would love it if you visited :)
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Yes, perhaps the thoughts feel random and disjointed, but one thing I have learned is that life doesn’t always make sense…despite our natural desire to have understanding. I also lost a child, and your words of struggle and confusion speak truthfully. Thank you for that.
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Sheye – I have had your blog post open on my computer since reading it on Saturday – I have re-read it and thought a little – you always write so beautifully and honestly and that in itself must be therapeutic for you. I know the day I wrote my little ones birth story on my blog I felt a great sense of relief – it seemed to help clear things in my mind – nothing makes it all better but these little things for me helped to put her in a happier place within my heart. I hope your writing here helps you – you have no idea how you help others so we will all be here holding your hand and supporting you to make more wonderful and happy memories with your beautiful family on earth, while being able to continue the memory of your sweet Ava. Much love Leanne x
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Sheye, you have such a beautiful way of wording everything. Thank you for your open honesty. It definitely adds a personal and genuine touch to your blog and even makes your pictures more alive. Continue pressing on
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Heya Sheye,
Here comes the sun…& I say “It’s Alright” – George Harrison
Very apt soundtrack to your entry. Keep it real Sheye. There’s zero negative with reflecting. You could teach a few peeps a thing or two about insight too. It’s ironic how you feel disjointed, yet through your wordsmithing skills & your photography (which speaks a thousand words), you’ve managed to band people together…enough for them (& I) to forum & exchange comment via your blog. Love that about cha! I hope one day, in the not-so-distant future, you can comfortably say “Here comes the sun…It’s alright” x
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These are beautiful!!
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i love that you just write what your feeling and you share your thoughts so openly! your normal is like no normal i know… sharing your stories of grief will never be out of place here… you always make sense to me! besides, there is nothing wrong with disjointed… just write whatever you feel… your words and images always touch me. your truly inspiring! hugs, rowe x
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Thankyou for sharing your heart with me Miss Sheye – you write with such honesty & passion & realness…reading this keeps me wanting to remain “real” & feel everything. Love to you as the sun shines pretty girl xx
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Oh I love all of these! :-) Thanks again for doing the spotlight Sheye, already I have gotten a lot of great feedback!
I posted it up this morning! :-)
xoxo
Aareancolorissue.blogspot.com
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My heart aches for you aching for your Ava. I’ve been reading here a long time and Ive re-read this entry a few times now. Summer doesnt feel the same now for me either since august 2008. I gave birth to my twin girls at 25wks on july 18th 2008 and Brooke only lived 6 weeks, passing away the day after my birthday on aug 31st. So ive not had a birthday since then either. Nothing is ever the same again…ever. As raw and difficult as it must be to put your emotions on paper, I thank you for giving words to what I am feeling too. No one understands and I wouldnt dare want them to. Your photos are gorgeous and Im glad I found your blog… Libby
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Thanks Sheye.
Oh that song – my 3 brothers played that song acoustically for my little darling Sunday’s dedication 2 years ago.
Thank you for inspiring so many of us and sharing the beauty and realness.
xo
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Wow, it looks like a great swim time! The water and warmth, and the adorable children! Here we’re enjoying cold and rain – but tomorrow will be clear and sunny. Hooray for getting outside!
Joy to you and yours.
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I love to read what you write.. no matter what it is.. there is a beauty in it all. even in the sadness.. I think of you and your family and Dear Sweet Ava all the time.. its odd.. how someone you have never met whose day to day you really don’t know.. can touch your life so profoundly..
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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’re heart is stunning.
so are these photos, they feel different somehow from so much of your others, but i love love love them.
can’t wait to see you in just a couple of months.