Whatever

[caption id="attachment_4252" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="Ellie sporting a dress."][/caption]

 

Earlier this week, I arrived at Ben's school for pick-up.  When what to my wondering eyes should appear but Ellie's dress walking down the hall.  Of course, without an Ellie in it.  It was so shocking.  I mean how dare some other little cutie pie wear Ellie's Land's End dress and shock me like that.  I began to cry as Ben approached.  I was quite certain had he been older he would have given me a big old eye roll, there is no crying at school after all (also no kissing.)

I had the pleasure of having brunch at this amazing French restaurant near the hospital with Esther Sunday (I apologize for that clunky sentence, yikes).  As I waited at the intersection where I would've turned to go to the hospital, the desire to turn, to go see Ellie overtook me.  How wange (weird strange) to WANT my daughter to be in the hospital.  When I did make it to the restaurant, Esther and I sat and talked and cried and reminisced about Ellie.   Many of the people I see on a daily basis know OF Ellie but did not KNOW Ellie.  How refreshing it was to connect with someone who KNEW her and LOVED her as well as Esther does.

The thing that strikes me these days is how my life seems to be a great divide.  At times it feels as if Ellie and that part of my life never even happened.  Then I want to call someone (usually my sister or my mom if she should happen to be in the country) and say, "Where was Ellie last year when you came to visit over fall break?"  Just to make sure I didn't make that beautiful girl and all she did up.  It feels like two separate books, rather than separate chapters.  Our lives are so incredibly different now.  Ben attends a different school than Ellie, so when we walk home from school, it is something totally new.  We are creating new memories.

I feel so dull at times, which is not the speed I typically run at.  I suppose my inner Scarlett O'Hara would be proud at how I have embraced my melancholia so dramatically.  Typically, I am a cheerleader.  I am excitable.   I feel like "whatever" at times.  Nothing seems as shiny or exciting as it used to be.  Whether something happens or not, I feel "whatever".  Is this what it feels like to be an adult?  I don't think I want to grow up then.

[caption id="attachment_4243" align="alignright" width="300" caption="Lotta tries to catch the water."][/caption]

Last week I attended a Make-A-Wish volunteer appreciation dinner.  A man spoke about his son's wish.  His son had had bone cancer, which is apparently extremely painful.  The way he talked about his son, his bravery, his kindness, was such an amazing tribute to him, allowing his gifts to live on.  That is what I want to do with all that Ellie taught us, keep passing it on, spreading her words and laughter and love.

As Ellie lay dying, I tried my best to absorb her.  To be totally and completely present.  To breathe her into me as best I could.  To store all of that up for a day like today when every part of me is missing her.  But it's like trying to hold onto sand or water, it slips through your fingers and vanishes.