Hello my darling Shelby and Dalton,
Another month is almost over. Another month closer to the holidays, which your Daddy and I are both dreading. Another month closer to your 1 year birthday, which may be the hardest day yet, aside from the days you each died. It's been awhile since I've posted and I have so much to talk about, I feel like my fingers won't be able to keep up with my thoughts.
After no weddings in 5 years, we attended 2 weddings in 6 days. Both were beautiful and in lovely settings but each had a different vibe to them. Your Daddy's former colleague married a sweet lady in the wonderfully Mediterranean-like town of Santa Barbara. Daddy participated in that ceremony, sharing in the Filipino custom of the cord that unites the bride and groom. At that rehearsal dinner, we met a gay man who commented that he was getting the first sleep in 3 months from taking care of his newborn twins. My heart stopped, but I had to know if they were boy/girl twins like you, so I asked him their names. Lillian and Lucien. This man seemed a bit pretentious at first, but we later told him our family's story. He shared our sorrow and was sweetly encouraging of our hopes to have living children someday. The other wedding was one of my former colleagues. Watching the groom, it was so beautiful to see the complete and utter love he felt toward my friend the bride. Both were good parties with great music and delicious food.
Your canine sister Abby has been acting a bit strange lately. I asked Daddy if he thought it was because you might be visiting us. He said anything is possible. Abby will be lying on the ground and suddenly start sniffing the air, as if there is a disturbance to the pressure in the room, or a new scent. She's done this a few times in the last couple weeks. Then, tonight, I had another experience which made me wonder if you were visiting. Daddy is in Montana this week, so I had to make my own delicious lemon water (nothing special, just ice water with lots of fresh squeezed lemon juice, but I made up that silly name one night, saying that Daddy makes the most delicious lemon water, and the name just stuck). I had just closed the vertical blinds on the sliding glass door. I got the ice from the freezer and when I stood up, about the 4th blind from the left was twisted back behind the other blinds. Abby sometimes weaves herself between the blinds, but tonight, she was lying on the carpet by the front hallway, and nowhere near the slider. I went over and straightened the blinds. I went back to the refrigerator and took out a bottle of water. When I closed the door and turned to the counter, the blinds were crooked again, but in a different way. It's as if y'all were playing in the blinds, but there was no sound, like when Abby rattles them. Nothing like that has ever happened.
This month, on Facebook, I've been participating in Capture Your Grief. It is something created by a grieving mom in Australia to commemorate October as Infant and Child Death Awareness Month. Each day throughout the month, she gave a general theme, and grieving parents are free to post as they see fit to talk about their children. It's seemingly at least semi-private in that non-participants don't seem to be able to view the posts, but of course, with it being on the Internet, nothing is ever really truly private.
Today's theme was Their Names/Their Photos. While we both treasure the few photos we have of each of you, your Daddy is even more fiercely protective of them than I am. To respect his wishes to honor your privacy, I agreed I would not post any close-ups of your photos or your actual photos. Another day I posted the altar at your memorial service, and your pictures may be somewhat visible in the collages Auntie Kelli made for us, which is a future post, but I will have to come up with an acceptable photo that doesn't violate Daddy's wishes. Below is my post for today.
Going along with the title of this post, I am struck by the similarities in the meaning of your names, which is something I don't think I ever realized until today. From the Town in the Hollow and From the Valley Town. We live in the Valley of the Sun. Since I was young, one of my favorite Bible passages has been the 23rd Psalm. Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me. The significance of your names having almost identical meanings strikes me. And then, one of my MISS friends commented that her son's name means "from the western town", and that the 3 of you are covering all geographical bases.
I hope you feel that I'm honoring you both with my Capture Your Grief postings. It is traumatic to read all the grieving parents' stories, and I think of all the precious angels you're playing with in heaven who became angel babies at the end of last year or this year. This may sound really off kilter, but I imagine you as having a core group of friends up there. I think that's why I've made such a connection with their moms, as it was all of your hands drawing us together and making sure we wouldn't have to wallow in our grief alone. All but one was born at 24 or 25 weeks, and all born in December or January, except one who was born a few months later.
