August 6, 2011

2:12 am



I wake up. I'm back there in a flash.

It's the hardest part. And the best part.

She is there, wrapped up in a pink blanket, a little hoody hiding her black hair.

Her face is close. I touch her nose with my nose. I kiss her lips with my lips. I nuzzle against her cheek with my cheek.

We are both sideways. My hand on her back, her cold body against my chest, her head under my chin.

I open the lids for a peak and find blue.

I'm so sorry sweetie. Repeat.

The rain pours. Water cascades down the window, as if trying to reach out and wash over us.

I'm back there in a flash. As if I ever left.

As if I ever left.

21 comments:

JoyAndSorrow said...

It is the hardest part. We're always Right.There. It takes no extra effort.


I will forever regret not looking at my son's eyes.

Gwen said...

I'm so sorry sweetie. I'm so sorry.

Dad and I send our love.

Nika M. said...

You are very right. That is the hardest and the best part, all at once.

Emma's Daddy said...

I always found the middle of the night to be when I relived my moments with Emma. These memories are so important. Sending love.

Anonymous said...

We think of you always - All our love.

Mike, Joni, Miles

Josh Jackson said...

Yes, the morning hours are always the roughest. I go to bed every night hoping that I'll sleep straight through. Though every once in a while, in the quiet morning hours like this morning, thinking of her is the only thing I want to be doing.

Hope's Mama said...

I find these moments come less and less now. I wish that wasn't the case. Because those memories are all I have left.
Another post that made my heart skip a beat.
xo

Tess said...

What beautiful memories you have of your daughter, they are heart warming and heart aching too

I got and still do from time to time, get gut wrenching flashbacks that send me back, but to cut through those I got a photo blown up of my daughter and that faces our bed where those images come to haunt me - I see her beauty and that overrides all else.

Thank you for sharing those precious moments

Jeanette said...

Like Sally, my flashbacks are rarer now, but when they come,it's like I never left, and yes a huge part of me is glad to be back there with her in my arms.
I'm so sorry, that like me and far too many others this is all you have.x

katiekoo said...

So simple. So short. So salient.

I will always regret not looking at Joseph's eyes. Don't know if that makes it better or worse.

Only 3 months further on than you and like Sally said, these moments are fewer now. Although they are still there. The distance scares me.

Oh she is so missed. Oh he is so missed. Oh, they are all so missed.

Heather Bray said...

My heart breaks for you and Kar. Love you so much!!!

Nerissa said...

I guess I didn't realize how close you and I are together on this wretched grief journey, Jack. I crave your point of view because it helps me understand Holden's Daddy's pov too. So does talking with him. ;) Anyway, have you found that the flashbacks have increased lately? I'm coming up on four months and I feel like they have.

Josh Jackson said...

Nerissa,

Thanks for your kind words. The 3 to 4 month was the toughest we've had so far since Margot died. I think this is the reason that we can't sleep at night, which inevitably leads to more flashbacks of everything that happened. Or maybe it's our grief sneaking up on us, aiding us in our fight to remember our losses.

Grace and peace to you today,

Josh

Fireflyforever said...

"It's the hardest part. And the best part."

Yes. It still is almost three years later. Rarer, yes but still oh so overwhelmingly sad and wonderful when it does happen.

Mary Beth said...

I think it's the greatest irony of babyloss--the worst part is actually the best part. Because you can hold them.

Sending love.

Jamie said...

Always wishing with you that you could hold her. Sorry brother. Love you.

Missy said...

At over a year out, I can honestly say that some of those flashbacks are still vibrant and real. At first I thought them a curse, but now I need them to keep from forgetting. As if. All my love to you and Margot~

Groves said...

Happened to read a comment of yours on Glow in the Woods:

I wanted to say that you are already doing it.

What you said was, you hoped someday you could offer comfort to others.

You do it every time you write. Every time. You give words to grief. You unlock doors that I knew were there, but could not unlock. You make the world less lonely with your powerful words.

Oh, Margot...I wish you had not died. I wish your Daddy didn't have to know what he knows for these words to pour out of him. Yes, it helps me - but it isn't worth the price. I'm so sorry.

Cathy in Missouri

Anonymous said...

beautiful post by Grove; I too am so comforted reading Josh's words, but as you put it, it isn't worth it. I am sorry that you, Josh, and Kari are so sad, that you had to live this nightmare. I think of you each day.

brianna said...

Sometimes it feels like the only right place to be is back there is those moments of holding him, no matter how difficult it can be. It is where he lives, in my memory, and it is my most precious possession.

crystal theresa said...

"it's the hardest part. and the best part." yes. almost two and a half years out, and i still wish to go back. to have calvin in my arms. i'd do it again. and again.

i open his memory box sometimes, and smell his clothes. my husband doesn't want to do it to often, because he's scared the smell will go away.

thank you for your writing. for sharing.

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