Spring comes to Natalie's garden

It's been pretty cold still, but spring is trying ever so hard to come. Natalie's garden is coming back to life, which is nice to see. The forsythia and lilacs are budding, and there are quite a few bulbs popping up. So far, there are just three of these crocuses in bloom. I really love the white with the purple veins. They are so pretty and delicate and perfect for my sweet little girl.

P.S. If anybody knows how to stop whatever animal (squirrel? rabbit? skunk?) is chomping on my crocuses, let me know. Beyond annoying, it is actually heartbreaking for me to see this happening. Last year, we tried sprinkling them with garlic and cayenne, going on the idea that if it doesn't taste good, the critters will leave it alone. Alas, the flowers didn't like it either and many tulips wilted.

Numb

What a week it was. Today Roslyn and I slept in and stayed in our pjs for much of the day. We had a leisurely breakfast, read lots of books, and I did some cleaning while she colored and kept busy. Finally, we got dressed for a visit to the playground where Roslyn was thrilled to see that her favorite swing, which had been broken for a long time, was finally fixed. She couldn't wait to get on it. Why is it her favorite? I don't know. It's just the one on the end. In desperate need of exercise, we played tag in the field and then came home so I could make dinner. It was a pretty good day considering the week that preceded it. Talk about intense. The two-year anniversary of Natalie's death really took a lot out of me. The stress and sorrow was particularly overwhelming this year. Now I just feel numb again. I don't really feel like doing much of anything. I am glad for this time to sit and write and not have to do anything else. But now I'm going to have some ice cream...

The Last Day

Roslyn took this picture of the three of us on March 3, 2007. This was the last time we took pictures of Natalie. I wish we had more.

I've spent much of today thinking about my last day with Natalie, two years ago. We were both sick and the weather was terrible. It wasn't our best day. But we still had fun, us three girls, while Chris was at work. Natalie's energy was pretty good. She didn't nap well. After dinner, the four of us were sitting in the living room. Natalie and I were on the couch (the one in this picture), and Chris and Roslyn were in a chair across from us. There was a quiet moment when we all noticed Natalie reaching for her foot and brining it up to her mouth and licking it. It broke the quiet because we all started laughing. Natalie suddenly became aware of herself and looked to each of us with a look of satisfaction that she'd done something to make us all laugh. She seemed pleased with herself. It was a magical moment in which we were all connected through that simple gesture and our collective reaction. That moment encapsulated how spectacular and fun and amazing she was. She was the star.

I'm about to go to bed and I know my thoughts will be on that last night, getting ready for bed, and tucking her in. Natalie knew how much I loved her. Of that, I am certain. It is one of my only comforts through this terrible tragedy. "Nite-nite, Natalie. Mommy loves you, sweet girl."

Cold Stone Creamery Day

Two years ago on March 15, I took Natalie out for ice cream to the Cold Stone Creamery on Thayer Street. It was our first time there. It was a rainy Thursday night. Roslyn was sick and Chris stayed home with her. I really wanted ice cream (for some reason), so I took my little pumkin out. We shared a waffle cone with dark chocolate ice cream and banana ice cream. Natalie was excited about the whole outing. She loved watching the lights, the people, and she enjoyed the ice cream a lot. (Yes, there was humming with each spoonful.) We had a great time together. It is one of my favorite memories of something just the two of us shared.

Last year, we went to Cold Stone Creamery to remember Natalie and this special memory. It is now part of our family's tradition as we lead up to the dreaded March 18. We explained to Roslyn why we do this; that it's a way for us to remember how much fun Natalie was and how much we miss her as a family. Roslyn was excited to go out for ice cream, but she also seemed to understand the meaning behind it. As we sat, I told her about the things Natalie did while we were there. Roslyn wanted to "run laps" around the railing like Natalie had done. It was very sweet. Roslyn lit a candle on the gratefulness.org web site and told me to write, "I love you, little sister."

Today, they didn't have dark chocolate, but they did have banana, so I had that. Chris had sweet cream with blueberry sauce, in honor of our girl who loved blueberries. It was sad and sweet, but a good thing we did as we begin this most painful week.

Here's Roslyn and Natalie from February, 2007. My two beautiful girls.

Remembering

My biggest fear is that Natalie will be forgotten. Not by me or our family, of course. I know that could never happen. But I'm worried she will be forgotten by the people who knew her. She was here for such a short time. Is it possible that people won't remember?

This dreadful month

I hate March. It's always been one of my least favorite months, but now it really is the worst. When the calendar turns, it's like a sudden tightening in my throat, a pounding in my chest, a sense of dread and sorrow and pain that this month brings. As March 18 draws closer, these feelings get stronger. I am now in the thick of it. I know that once that horrible date passes, nothing will be different. Natalie will still be gone. But maybe I can breathe a little easier knowing that I have gotten over another major hurdle -- the second anniversary. Two years. It's unbelievable. I've been crying a lot. There's a lot of other sad things going on in my life right now, which I may write about soon. For now, I just need to say it out loud: I HATE MARCH!!