A year and a half.
Time has marched on by for 18 months.
Like army troops on a mission, nothing can stop it.
My other children have played in a cemetery as their “park” for a year and a half.
They have greeted their brother with a hug to a sign or a stone for a year and a half.
They have experienced joy and grief for a year and a half of their lives.
It doesn’t seem real.
How has it been this long already?
The answers remain elusive and I’ll-defined.
The clock just keeps on ticking.
The months march on by
The pain is different the longer time marches by…
I can’t say it’s lessened, I can only say it’s changed.
We have learned to live without Philip, but we have not forgotten. We have not stopped loving. We will always remember the missed moments every single day.
Time marches on. Our hearts don’t, though.
Sometimes, fora moment, I wish a heart could forget because living with the pain of child loss is miserable and misunderstood much of the time.
But then I am grateful for the pain because it reminds me of where we were and where we are. It reminds me of the most important things in life, and subsequently, the least.
Time marches by. I wish it would stop in some moments because suddenly I find myself wondering how we arrived on this blue skies, wispy clouded fall day, 18 months into the “after”.
But I am so grateful that love doesn’t march by in the same manner my calender does. Though it is painful and cruel in some moments, to feel it, love is crucial. Love never exists without risking pain. And pain this deep must mean love even deeper.
And because of love, there will always be a way to hold my baby forever despite time marching on by.