Lilypie Angel and Memorial tickers

Lilypie - Personal pictureLilypie Angel and Memorial tickers

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Deafening Silence

In a single second my life has been radically altered.  My precious gift from God, sweet Makiah Kaitlyn, has gone to be with Jesus long before her time.  I know in my heart that she is happy, but my arms are so empty... my house so dreadfully quiet.  I feel at times that a horrible blackness has enveloped me.  I feel as though my insides are screaming.  I am clawing and fighting to break out of this torturous body- to escape from this oppressive reality, but I cannot escape.  The dark anguish leaps on me again and again.  It sits on my chest and presses against my very life breath.  My heart feels utterly crushed and broken- pummeled into a thousand pieces.  Life as I knew it has been shattered and the shards that are left are painful and sharp.  Cutting me as I try to walk through them.  This is the valley of the shadow of death.  How dark is that shadow!

Her room is perfectly untouched.  All of the dolls in her dollhouse family are piled into their little bed together where she left them.  Her castle is waiting for sweet little fingers to bring the princesses to the ball.  Her store is full of all the toys she didn't clean up and didn't want Mommy to see.  Makiah's baby Maddy waits inside the store in her little stroller ready for her walk.  Jumbled barbie legs and mermaid tails protrude from pink and yellow baskets awaiting their next adventure.  Two much loved sand dollars sit gingerly on the shelf in front of the fish bowl.  A lonely cat cries on my porch, not understanding why the little one who always snuggles him does not come out to play.  Tiny shoes sit empty, waiting for busy feet.  Fall clothes hang expectantly in the closet with tags still attached.  The barbie big wheel in the garage wonders why no roadside flowers or dirty rocks have been tucked inside the secret storage compartment in weeks.  The lady bugs outside are waiting to be hunted, and the markers inside lie untouched by the coloring books.  The marbles that have been hidden all over the house (grouped according to color) are ready to be found by the precious one who hid them away.  The little mermaid toothbrush is beginning to feel abandoned. A sweet little princess bed, harboring the last few broken cheerios, sits ready for a tiny, warm body to slip beneath its pink blanket and soft, blonde curls to rest against the butterfly pillowcase.

Can it be that she is never coming home?  Surely she is just away staying with a friend- ready for mommy to come and get her.  Are the sweet kisses really gone?  Has the smell and feel of her soft skin and the weight of her arms around my neck truly disappeared?  Will I not run my fingers through her sweet curls again on this earth?  Surely I heard a voice calling "mama" early this morning.  Any minute now a little head will appear by my bedside and green eyes will wait eagerly for mine to open while an insistent little hand will poke my shoulder continuously and the babyish voice will say "Hungry!  Hungry!  Mama, wake up!  I'm hungry!"

I think for one second, in that fuzzy moment between sleep and wakefulness, that I've had horrible dreams, and I am relieved to wake up.  But then horror floods me as reality pounces on my consciousness.  This is not a dream.  I cannot wake up.  The nightmare is real.  No little footsteps are coming.  No one is crying for mommy.  The house is empty and still.  The silence deafening.  I fill it with wails and groans and pleas to God.  My eyes burn, and I can barely breath.  I grit my teeth and clutch the pink bunny in my bed.  I bury my face in its worn fur and try to catch  a glimpse of her sweet smell.  It's almost gone forever.  I feel panicked that I will forget- that cherished memories will evade me.  Her face on that last morning we snuggled on the couch seems to be growing dim.  Fuzziness starts to creep in.  "No!"  I scream.  Memory don't fail me now!  Please keep every precious detail etched as in stone! 

Warm, salty tears become rivers on my face, and then I think of the ocean.  I remember that minutes before she was taken away,  my sweet Makiah told me that she loved me more than all the water in the ocean and all the sand on the beach.  I assured her that mommy loved her more.  Maybe my salty tears will always remind me of her oceans of love, and maybe, just maybe, they will not always taste so bitter in my mouth.

No comments:

Post a Comment