Seven Years Without You

There's little to say today, seven years on. Ben is missed, and thought of, as he is every day. Have I healed? Yes, as much as anyone could. I am happy, despite missing Ben, despite loving him fiercely and desperately wanting to know who he would be today.

Seven years. Hard to believe.

That's 2,557 days that he's been gone. 61,368 hours. Seven birthdays. A new baby brother, now in kindergarten, two new cats, plans to move next summer. A big sister nearly 10 years old. Me, on the other side of 40. Lifetimes.

Lifetimes.

I think it's time for this blog to change, but I don't know how it will. I am no longer living so deeply in the land of broken hearts, but I still want to be here to help others, offer support to those for whom this is a new and terrible way of life. Because there is hope, there is life on the other side of grief.

Life. Never the same, but life nonetheless.

I love you, my baby boy. I always, always loved you.

December 25th

Dear Ben,

I want to wish you Merry Christmas, and this is all I have.

Ben, I miss you.

Love,

Mama

Wintersong

The Longest Night

Winter Solstice. The Darkest Night.

Ten days away from seven years without him.

In the quiet I think of him, talk to him. Miss him.

In the bleak midwinter, long ago, he left, and I stayed, to forever wonder.

Where are you, Ben?


Can you hear me?


Are you here?

I Promised Myself

This December, I promised myself I would not cry. I promised myself that I was going to be all right for the first time in the seven years since Ben left us.

I promised myself, and I really believed it.

But I was wrong.

We put up the Christmas tree yesterday and James pulled out an ornament from our box of decorations, with Ben's name on it. "This was for my brother," he said, "but he died. I wish he didn't die."

Ah. Me too, baby. Me too.

And so I find myself today, feeling emotional and not wanting to. Thinking of my friend Elizabeth, whose birthday is today, only she, too, is gone, and her absence is one of two gaping holes in my life that will never be filled again.

No, I don't want to cry. I promised myself.

But I lied.

John Lennon - Imagine

And the Winner Is...

The winner of the anthology They Were Still Born: Personal Stories About Stillbirth is...

Ceil.

Please contact me at virginiawilliams(at)yahoo(dot)com with your full name and mailing address and I will put the book in the mail to you.

Watch this Video; Help People Living with HIV

Yesterday was World AIDS Day. In recognition of that, Starbucks has a music video on their site by the musical group The Killers. For every view of the video, Starbucks will donate 5 cents to the Global Fund to Fight AIDS in Africa.

Click, watch, and when you're done, pass it on. http://link.brightcove.com/services/player/bcpid609428906001?bctid=691378821001

*Don't forget, tomorrow is the last day to enter the drawing to win the book They Were Still Born: Personal Stories About Stillbirth.