There are things you still have not done.
Places you have not returned, people you have not seen.
In four years, your return to the land of the living has slowed with twists and turns, paces forward and stumbles back.
You decide on a big step, a walk into your old life, crowded rooms, people brushing close yet so much further away than before.
But you forgot about the wrong words, the well-meaning questions, the not knowing, the explaining.
You smile and correct them with “surviving triplets” when they say twins, whether they are still listening or not.
You skip explanations when you can, point out your oldest, your youngest, don’t answer when someone says “I thought you only had four” and your heart folds as someone argues your 10 millionth no-they-are-triplets explanation with a way too happy “but now there are two so you do have twins!”
And you feel like the only person left. The only one hanging on to what your family is, the pieces that make it whole, whether they sit at your hip or cling to your heart. She was here, you know it, but was she if no one else does?
And you are blinking yourself “home” and looking for your husband to save you and digging for your keys and then one more person asks,
“Now which two are the twins?”
You admit defeat, don’t correct, only say “that one” towards the khaki shorts climbing the porch and “that one” at the dress balancing a dessert and then your daughter, your teenager, the one who you are not sure is on the same planet, let alone the same room as you when you speak…
she comes from you-are-not-sure-where and points at the sky and says,
“And one up there. They are triplets.”
Then she walks away, unaware of the gift she just handed to you.
Your shoulders straighten and the room is full of people from your old life who have somehow appeared in your new.
The people who need to know do and the people who will always remember always will.
And you drive home and tell your teenager how much that moment meant.
Her headphones are in and she brushes off your hand but you know she is listening when you tell her how much you love her.
And somewhere up there,
her little sister is too.
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Such a beautiful post! Thank you for sharing.
So beautiful and tugs at my heart.
This made me tear up. Bless your daughter.
I’m sorry people don’t listen. I’m sorry sometimes I don’t listen (not to you, but in general).
People can be so insensitive, even when they’re not intending to be or even when they are trying to be nice. I’m sorry that you have to go through this. To have to constantly defend her. You are a really great mommy and you have some really special kids.
Oh Jessica…my heart just sinks into your words and I can feel the room spin a bit. I have been fighting for this word lately in my heart and you just described it for me. Essence. It is her essence I hold onto. Not her memory. Not her story. Not her life. Her essence. The very thing that is indescribable within the spinning room….thank you. thank you. thank you.
I’m so glad, yet so sorry this post put feelings into words for you. I think you are carrying forward and sharing her essence beautifully.
This is so beautiful. I just don’t even know what to say…
Oh I want to hug that sweet biggest kid of yours! And you. Those who matter know.
Isn’t she the best? And she has no idea what a gift she gave.
She was here. The people who matter will never forget.
So glad your amazing daughter was there to remind them.
It was an amazing thing for her to do and I was honestly shocked. It has always been hard to wage how she comprehends Hadley’s death and how it affects her emotionally so to have her say it just when I needed it most was so perfect.
This is beautiful. It’s painfully true about our pasts fitting into our presents and the work it takes to get the puzzle pieces just right. Your oldest’s comment, however quick, was right on time and makes me smile, especially for how it made you stand a little taller.
Absolutely, she saved me, whether she knew it or not, her quick comment lifted me up.
That was really, really beautiful Jessica. All your children are special, all five of them.
Thank you Suzanne, it means so much to have all 5 of my children honored here.
Love! Absolutely beautiful post. And I love how your oldest “has your back”! Their sister WAS definitely here, and the one’s who know it will always remember… the one’s who don’t aren’t special enoughto have had her in their lives, if for a brief moment and watching as the angel she is now.
What you write helps me to understand not only you, but to understand others who are dealing with such a tremendous loss.
You are raising wonderful children xo
Your daughter is such an amazing person and I’m guessing that she doesn’t know that what she did was awesome!
When I read this my thoughts wandered to the baby that I lost and how old it would have been… it’s things like this that make me wonder and imagine what if….
It is hard to always wonder and carry that “what if.”
I don’t think my daughter has any idea just how much it meant, to have them carry her memory forward is such a gift.
Oh, Jessica, this is beautiful. Ashlyn did give you a beautiful gift that day. Thank you for sharing this.
Ashlyn has a remarkable soul! Simply beautiful.
You have such amazing children. What a powerful and sweet moment. She’ll always be there with all of you…looking down from the stars and smiling at moments like this.
Powerful words. Though I have never been in your shoes, I can feel every emotion in your writing and can imagine myself there. Though it is so incomparable, I feel the same kind of twinge when someone asks “So, where does your Dad live?” I want to answer something like “heaven” but I think that would be too heavy for some, so I usually stutter around a bit before I politely tell them he died a few years ago. My heart is with you, and even though I don’t know you, I will always remember you have triplets.
L.O.V.E. this. Love it. Your writing is brilliant. And so is that dear, sweet teenage girl of yours…
This is absolutely gorgeous. She will always be here, with you, in your heart and in the stars.
That’s such a tough thing…we lost one of our daughter’s at 16 days old. Whether I say it out loud or not, she is always included in my heart. Sometimes it’s just too tough to explain one.more.time.
Michelle
http://normalchaosforamultitaskmom.blogspot.com/2012/07/right-way.html
Tears xoxoxo
My heart both broke and filled reading your piece. {hugs} my friend.
Ashlyn is a rockstar (on all planets). The old life situations are tricky – but you are so right about the people who know and remember always will. Thinking of you, Ashlyn, all 3 of your triplets and Sawyer. xo
Ashlyn is amazing, something she gets from you.
What an amazing moment that must of been to see your oldest let them know that she is still a part of the family even though she is not here physically. I mean, AMAZING.
What a gift from such an amazing girl. I’m glad you keep sharing these moments, even though I’m sure they are sometimes hard to let go. What you’ve lost is so great, and each time you post, you honestly help me to better understand how to approach situations dealing with this kind of loss. The triplet/twin thing makes me incredibly sad for you. They wouldn’t stop being triplets if they were in different classrooms at school, apart from each other, and it’s insensitive to act as though they stop just because their sister is in heaven.
This is beautiful. What a gift she gave you.
Heartbreaking and uplifting at once. Amazing.
I never completely understood this before. I knew it was painful but never felt the full weight of it. Since my miscarriage I have a new understanding. I never got to hold my baby or hear its cry, but now I understand. Even if no one ever knows it or considers it, I am the mother of 3 children. I was pregnant three times. I loved three babies. One is in heaven. I’m sorry that you are going through this and I hate that people forget and flippantly call your triplets, twins. My heart is with you.
Ashlyn is seriously the most caring person ever!
So beautiful. I so often feel the same, that I am the only one hanging on to the pieces, the pieces that make the whole. I just can’t forget one piece, ignore one piece.
I do think that having two surviving triplets must bring a particular kind of agony and, I’m sure, people must always comment on ‘your twins.’
I’m so glad that Ashlyn spoke up and gave you such a beautiful gift. All of your children are so amazing. All five of them x
Those of us who haven’t suffered, haven’t grieved in this way…we don’t understand until you write things like this. Then we do. In as much as we can. Thank you for sharing your grief – it helps everyone and I pray it helps you as well, Jessica.
Jessica, I love reading your posts – not only are they beautifully written, but then are also such relevant slices into your life and what you must deal with. No one can ever be in your shoes dealing with what you deal with – but you do a tremendous job of sharing your thoughts and experiences with us in a way that will forever fills us in and remind us to remember that each of us has their own stories.