Dear Miss Carry,
I don't even know where to begin. I don't know what to say to you. Who do you think you are? Who are you to come into my life and my family -quietly, slowly, deliberately - and take something that doesn't belong to you?
Why don't you leave? You have come and taken what you have wanted - so why are you still here? Every where I turn, every where I look, every time I try and turn my mind to something else, you emerge from hiding, you gloat, and you always find a way to remind me of what I have lost. And what you have won. Do you point and laugh? Do you claim a loud victory? Or do you stare quietly and intently, watching for the glimpses of grief?
I have to ask, Miss Carry, when do you leave? Or do you ever leave? Even as the weeks turn into months, and the months turn to years, will you always be around? Will you be around every corner to remind me of the sharpness of my pain? Will you be giving silent nudges to stir my sorrow? When others around me forget what you have taken, when no words are ever spoken, will you still find a way to show me what should be mine?
You need to know that you didn't just take from my womb, Miss Carry.
You took from my heart.
Labels: Parenting Dirt