I've had so many thoughts going through my mind, every time I sit down to record how or what I'm feeling I can't seem to sort through everything. I can't seem to focus enough to make any sense. There's so many weird and contradicting thoughts and emotions.
There's nothing more to say about Jersey's "special day" (as the blondies call it) than perfect. It was a great day, a beautiful day. We cried and laughed and hugged and ached. Jersey looked so good, she looked like a dollie in her long white dress. There were many hard parts of the day but I think the hardest part for me was watching Tatum. She never left Jersey's side. She played with her hair, stroked her cheeks, kissed her, and put her arms around her. She proudly introduced her little sister to friends and family coming to see her. How excited Tatum was to be a big sister, to have her very own baby. She couldn't wait to teach Jersey how to walk and talk and dance. Tatum is such a cute dancer. While Chris was speaking Tatum began sobbing, a deep uncontrollable sob. She had huge alligator tears and it broke my heart. These last several days she's been very hard; very emotional and angry.
I loved that Chris was brave enough to speak at Jersey Girl's funeral. I was sitting there watching him wondering who this new man is, I'd never seen this side of him before. I loved the balloons at the cemetery, what a neat thing to see. Tatum, Tucker, and I wrote our own notes at home and then brought them with us that morning. We let ours go before everybody else, our three balloons sailed together, never separating. Isn't that how we're suppose to be: sailing together through this life during the highs and lows always sticking together? I loved how people so unselfishly served us in ways we don't even realize. I love how much support was given to us on the hardest day we've ever had to face. I love...so many things about that day I'd never change. Planning a funeral is like planning a wedding in 3 days!
While my arms are empty of my baby I waited so long for I can't help but be grateful she has her wings. I was done watching her go through all the crap she did. I was tired of the never ending procedures, the constant sedation, the uncomfortable life she led. How free she must feel. How lucky she is it was only 6 weeks. I'm grateful she's perfect, no machines, no doctors...just heaven.
I feel like the last 6 weeks were just a bad dream. We never brought her home so our home dynamic didn't change. We never saw her in her room or in her cute, pink outfits. We're back to our regular routines... with the memories. When we go out as a family nobody knows our baby is missing, nobody knows we have 3 rugrats. I was asked the dreaded question, "howz the baby?". "Oh she's an angel," I responded because she was and is. "That's nice" was the response. It is nice...it's wonderful.