The gift and curse of time

Today, I was thinking about this blog and about the fact that I just don't have time to write lately.  I've been consumed with my mom's move, dealing with all the bills and finances [as we are financing the move], my medical stuff, my disability, work worries, etc.  And that doesn't even begin to cover my overwhelmed state regarding Christmas - I've only done my cards and NOTHING else.


With all this going on, this blog as well as my diary, has sort of fallen by the wayside ~ and I was reminded of this today when I logged on to see that I had lost a reader.  When there are only 31 of you, a loss of one is felt.  And I don't blame this person - I just haven't really blogged lately.  So I started by catching up on reading some of my blogs, and I was struck by the following words from a blogging friend and fellow BLM, Alissa, over at "On KK's Butterfly Wings", who was reflecting on her 30th birthday:
      "We are now the mothers of rainbows. We are the mothers of non-profits. We are the 
        mothers of memorial events. We are the mothers of blogs. We are the mothers of 
        memorial and remembrance items. We are the mothers of support groups.  And as
        we all know, we wouldn't be the mothers of any of that without our babies and the 
        time that has passed since we said good-bye." 


Time is a funny thing.  Time can heal. Time can ease the pain. Time can allow me to move forward ~ but time can also make my memories fuzzy.  Time can let me focus on today and let yesterday 'slip' away from me.  And Time keeps moving forward, whether I want it to or not.  


I started thinking about Time today and where I was last year.  Last year, I was raw.  I was hurting.  I was angry.  I hated Time.  I hated the fact that Sammy wasn't with us.  The thought of our sweet babe missing or needing me and being so far away broke my heart [it still does], and it drove me to include Sammy in all I did.  Even last year's cards were signed "Joanna * Freddie", with the star being my own way of including Sammy in our lives.  No one knew that the little star I made wasn't a Christmas star or simply a fancy ampersand - only I knew that the little star was our baby.  I felt proud of finding a way to include Sammy in our cards, even if no one besides me knew...


...and then Time changed everything.  With Time, we slowly moved forward.  With Time, my rawness scabbed over and scarred.  With Time, my anger lessened and turned into pleading and prayers asking God to take care of Sammy and to tell him how much we love and miss him each day.  With Time, that sharp, stabbing pain that takes your breath away slowly gave way to a dull ache.  Someone told me today that I looked happy, with Time.  But today, I find myself thinking of the cards that I signed this year, and I'm ashamed that with Time, I signed them "Joanna & Freddie".  How could I allow Time to dull my memory?  How could I allow Time to cause me to forget to include Sammy in this year's festivities?  How could I let Time focus on the future and the baby to come, and not honour the memory of our sweet Sammy? 


The one thing that Time can't change are the hot tears that fall down my face as I miss my child, and as I'm ashamed that I forgot to include him in our card. Time can be a blessing, but it can also be a curse.  Will more Time make me forget more?  Will more Time diminish Sammy's importance in our lives?  With Time, will we focus on the child we have with us, instead of the one we ache for?


Last year, I wanted Time to speed up to and get as far away from all the pain and hurt, hoping to get to a place of some peace... but with Time, I want to go back.  I want to have thoughts of Sammy with every breath, instead of a few times a day.  In 10 years, will I be one of those women who never speak or acknowledge the child they lost?  I hope and pray that Time won't rob me that way.