grace and sorrow

on

As many of you know two years ago on June 20 at 5:37 in the morning, Izzy left us. We got her to the hospital and the heroic team put her on life-support, but the reality everyone faced was that she was already gone. Whatever flicker of life they found to put her on life-support was so tiny it could not be sustained without a dozen machines and a team at the Stanford ICU. When the hopelessness of the situation had to be confronted, and we shut the machines off, it took only seconds.

Last year at this time I felt great pain and I struggled through it to remember the honor that she bestowed on us by leaving such a tremendous sign. To be born on her dad‘s birthday and to pass away on mine. She bookended her life. She knew exactly what she was doing. And to be included like that is a tremendous honor. A gift.

This year I feel that even more strongly. The pain and grief are there of course. But they feel a little more muted. A little more sweet. I think that is what the word sorrow means. It is deep and it hurts but there’s a kind of beauty in it too. I see all these jubilant birthday wishes coming in for me and last year I think I didn’t know how to take them as I struggled to reconcile my birthday with her passing.

But this year I feel much greater sense of peace and understanding of what Isabel wants and feels, and I know she wants me to take this day for myself too. That’s not possible but I can share it with a happier heart. And when that happens, when the grief begins to soften into this kind of sorrow, and you can see more beauty than pain, that is grace. That is her birthday gift to me. ❤

But this year I feel how much greater sense of peace and understanding of what Isabel wants and feels and I know she wants me to take this day for myself too. That’s not possible but I can share it with a happier heart. And when that happens, when the grief begins to soften into this kind of sorrow and you see more beauty than pain, that is grace. That is her birthday gift to me.

3 Comments Add yours

  1. ddlorenzobooks says:

    Thinking of you today. ❤

    Like

  2. Pam Douglass says:

    Beautiful. You’re in my thoughts today and always. ❤

    Like

  3. Sophie @BewareOfTheReader says:

    Thinking of you Emma. Once again your words are so beautiful. Yes the pain is morphing into sorrow. I hope you still enjoyed your day yesterday, bittersweet and all.

    Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s