Being Creative

  • Posted on January 28, 2011 at 3:41 pm

Oh, the beginning of January was fun.  My daughter got sick, then my husband got sick, then I got sick.  I finally dragged myself to the doctor’s office last week to get antibiotics, since the sinus infection I had been fighting would not go away.  I’m feeling much better, but I still have a nagging cough.

Then, just when I was starting to feel better, the largest cold sore I’ve ever had parked itself on my bottom lip.  Despite my doctor-prescribed medication, it was painful and embarrassing.  I hate cold sores.  Every time I get one, I grumble about my ex, who didn’t feel it was necessary to be careful when HE had one.  I guess I thought it was OK to kiss him while his cold sore was still active, because the next thing I knew, I had one and it spread down my throat.  But, I digress.

I keep reminding myself to write on my blog, but other things take up my time, like work, taking care of our daughter, trying to stay on top of the dishes in the sink, etc.  Our dining room table is a disaster with stuff piled all over it, but I’ve got creative projects going and I don’t want to move anything.  Speaking of being creative, I was rifling through my teacher stuff the other day and came across a poem by Emily Dickinson that I use when I teach “Of Mice and Men,”  “Hope is the Thing with Feathers.”  It got stuck in my head and wouldn’t come out.  I envisioned a pendant with the poem behind glass and a little saying about my son on the back.  I worked furiously on them for a week, trying to find a way to spiral the text.

As with anything I create, I always wonder if it’s truly something that someone would like.  I was hesitant to show them at my support group, but my purpose of making them was to send a piece of Benjamin out into the world.  I wanted to make something for Benjamin that I could donate to other mothers and families at the hospital, to let them know that some day, hope can return.

Even though we have our daughter, we lost our son.  I miss him every day.  A part of me died after he passed away and my hope for his future passed away along with him.  I don’t know that I can say hope has fully returned to me, yet.  I sit here and feel incredibly guilty because I have only gone to visit his grave once since we buried him.  I haven’t even been able to bring myself to pick up his death certificate.  That death certificate makes his passing final.  I told the mortuary services at the memorial park he buried in that I would come and pick it up this weekend.  I want to go and visit him.

Every time our daughter hits a milestone, I feel happy/sad.  It’s a strange emotion.  I’m so happy that Gracie has reached an important milestone in her development, but at the same time, I’m so sad Benjamin isn’t there to reach it, too.  I just miss him.  I wonder a lot about what he would have been.

Working on the pendants and the necklaces has given me a sense of peace for the first time since before we found out he wasn’t going to survive.  It’s a little piece of him I work on and give to others.  I like that.

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