Repeat: Hallelujah

I am not writing my blog right now because I realized mid-August that it felt like a burden instead of a release. I am too sad, navigating the twins leaving for college. I scheduled these posts that day so the blog wouldn’t be empty, but I could pull back and use the time left with the twins. A cop-out, but forgive me. Having them go is really, really hard. I need mental space to feel what I am feeling, help the kids through the transition, and sit in the quiet for a moment on the other side.

We went to the yearly NICU reunion at the hospital. One of our favourite nurses died a few months ago and they spoke about her during the address. They also had a scrapbook set up where families could share memories about her. I got very weepy while I was there because she was this person who was there at the start and who remembered the twins year after year. She usually greeted us at the sign-in table, and she obviously wasn’t there this time. The ChickieNob saw me crying and asked why everyone was crying when they mentioned P–, so I told her that she had died and her response was the natural one: why is everyone upset if she wasn’t part of our family.

Because she was still a thread in the enormous blanket we’re weaving of our lives, Chickie.

Because through circumstances, our lives crossed and I learned all about hers in the late night hours that we stayed up in the NICU, and she was obviously a witness to ours. She held the twins long before many of the people currently in their life touched the twins. And that is a powerful thing — to lose someone who was there at the beginning. There are so few left at the hospital that we still have contact with, that were there to thank face-to-face.

Read the rest here.