12.5 years ago, early this morning, Hannah was born.3 years ago yesterday, Hannah said to me, "Don't worry about me, mom, I'm a rock."
3 years ago today, she slept through her final half-birthday, while we sang. Still not ready to let go.
So today, as I cry, I'm listening to the music over at Hannah's Ashes. I know Puff the Magic Dragon plays with a girl named Hannah Lea. Bob Marley doesn't have to sing "Don't Worry" in heaven, because they already know; that song's for the rest of us ♥ I believe in Yesterday & like Stevie Nicks, I'm counting on being called home just as soon as that place is ready for me. All the while, You Belong to Me. And I know that this time around I got to be Hannah's mom and that means something special and sacred; I can be anyone, even diana-healed ♥
I think of the pictures I'd have, had I hired a photographer for death, as one does for a birth. I'd have a portrait of the sweet nurse who celebrates a birthday-and-a-half today, for my sweet girl. I'd be able to show you the sun through the windows, shining on the heads of those who stood vigil, singing to an unconscious, well-loved Hannah. You'd see the solace we sought with one another in the waiting room we commandeered. There'd be awe on the faces of the medical professionals, as they witnessed their first peaceful transition; there'd be an underlying love for a patient they'd been honored to know and to serve, if only for a few hours. Hayden's sleeping form would belie the overwhelm he'd lived in for the past many weeks; there'd be peace in his deep rest. I bet you'd find peace there, in the rest of us, too. I still find great peace in the places sleep can take me.
Today, however, I am awake. I am feeling. Because I'm honored to have the human experience of emotions and attachments. Today I am attached to a dream. Plenty of time tomorrow to reattach to reality.





