She was a late talker - very late. Her first real word, clear and understandable came from the backseat of the car one Spring afternoon. "Emm-ma" she said, in an uncharacteristically calm voice. She gazed out the window and said it over and over, "Emm-ma - Emma".
This summer she had a moment, where I swear she wasn't herself. It is a very personal story and I would need permission from another mother to tell it. But, succintly put, she can feel spirits - I just know it.
And then, there was the first day of Kindergarten and the red leaf.
She always delivers her world crashing statments with such a cool, poised, matter-of-fact voice. It takes me off guard every time. To be clear - I have always believed that children can see and feel angels and spirits. And so, I have no doubt that she can see and feel Emma. It disarms me because of my internal reaction, and - if I'm being honest - my desire to possess her abilities.
My most recent article in Exhale , Breaking Roadblocks, makes perfectly clear that world-connecting is not in my skill set, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to see her - my sweet girl - just one more time.
Tonight, as I was finishing a chapter in India - The Moonstone Fairy, Bear stopped me with that calm - steady voice she so very rarely uses.
"Mom, I saw Emma last night" she said. I froze, a fairy induced smile still on my face, determined not to let her see what these words do to me.
"Oh?" was my open-ended reply. Whatever she says will be enough. I will not ask leading questions. I will not beg for information.
"Yes. I saw her right here in my blankets. She was here and over there was her crib."
I will not ask...I will not do it...oh - but I want to know.
"She smiled at me mom. I patted her belly and she smiled. I saw her in my blankets."
And then - the flick switched, as it always does - "Hey, how does the chapter end, mom? Come on - read."
My heart is bursting tonight with sadness, love and wonder. My gut is satisfied that we made every right decision when sharing Emma with her sisters.
8 comments:
Cara, I meant to comment when you first started this discussion. I'm not sure what effect sharing Henry will have on Kathleen or on other siblings should they come. But keeping Henry a remembered part of our family is something I was worried about even in the first month after he died. Then it was about him (and me); now I suppose I should think about her. I think that talking about him openly and naturally will lead to it being healthy for her. When I sing to her, I sing about her namesake who loves her from heaven and about her brother who isn't here but who has watched over her since before she was born. I sometimes wonder if that sounds creepy, but I believe it is true.
Cara,
My heart is swelling tonight. I read this with tears in my eyes. Brent, my Nephew was this way when he was younger. I still think now, ocassionally he posses this gift to see the world I so much want to see. I am jealous. Somehow the older we get we lose this ability. Maybe we become to jaded, maybe we just get clouded over. I hope that she can hang on to this ability and use it to better others lives. I hope someday I can regain this ability and help myself through the rough days. Thinking of you all and sending you hugs.
Oh that makes me so happy to hear yet it still brings a tear to my eye.
That gives me shivers.
How lovely.
xx
"To be clear - I have always believed that children can see and feel angels and spirits."
I agree with you 100%. We've had something similar going on around here.
Whew, I just got a chill and a tear from that one!
I am so delighted that Bear has a connection with her sister and expresses it so beautifully.
Thank you for sharing this.
Wow! Just WOW!
What a gift your three daughters are. I'm so impressed with the way you handled the moment. You are such a kick ass mom!
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