As you all know, Gwyn has been a different Gwyn lately. I haven't been posting as much, not because I don't want to but more because I don't have much going on in the dating world right now. I've explained my whole 'born again virgin' phenomenon in a few recent posts and it's still in full effect. Many have tried to break me down but none have succeeded. In fact, I'm beginning to think that I may be some sort of sex rejection genius. If only I could bottle that up and sell it, I'd be in Hawaii in no time!
Even though I don't have much going on in the romance department (but lord knows my friends' love lives are keeping me more than busy) I have had a lot on my mind. I feel like I'm constantly thinking. Thinking about how to make myself better. Thinking about how I got to this point in my life. Thinking about all of the things I wish I would've done differently. Thinking about my purpose in the world. My brain is never really turned off. Sometimes I feel like an artist who just needs to put something on a canvas. Like I have something built up inside of me that I need to get out. You know, that feeling we all have that we're supposed to be doing something more. That we're destined for bigger things but somehow got stuck in this ordinary life.
About a month ago, I felt the urge to write. Specifically, I felt the urge to write about my friend's baby that passed away in January. I think about her all the time, not so much her physical self but what she represents to me. Besides losing my own dad, going through the experience of watching a child suffer and eventually pass away has been the most emotional and life changing experience I've had in my 30 years. Sometimes the feelings are very overwhelming and those are the times where I feel like I have to purge. I purge through writing, it's easier for me to express myself that way. I've written a few things about this experience and the following 'poem' is the first thing I put down on paper after everything happened. I haven't known what to do with it since I wrote it so it's just sort of been sitting on my computer. Today I decided to share it with the blogosphere.....
I don’t remember the first time I realized that your mommy needed her friends. Was it the day she told us that you were born with only half of your heart? Maybe it was the day I saw her eyes water when she looked at you. Or maybe it was the day when our talks changed from lab work and numbers to prayers and miracles. I want to remember.
I don’t remember the first time I came to see you at the hospital. I don’t remember the visit after that either. Nor the next, nor the time after that. Which time did I have to wear the mask? Which time did I see your neighbor, the little boy with the burns all over his body? Screaming when his pain meds wore off, crying every time the nurses had to change his bandages. I want to remember.
I don’t remember the first time I touched you. Did I move the tubes and drains? Did I squeeze your finger and whisper in your ear that everything was going to be o.k.? Was it the time when the nurse put you in your pretty pajamas and cut heart shapes out of the tape holding the breathing tube in your mouth? I want to remember.
I don’t remember the first time I said your name in my prayers. Did I pray for you the day you were born? Was it the day of your first surgery? Was it the day you pulled out your breathing tube to show everyone who was in charge? I want to remember.
I remember the look in your mommy’s eyes that day. She was tired, worn down, overwhelmed. Her voice was weak. Her eyes were red. The nurses whispered. I want to forget.
I remember the last time I saw you. Your beautiful blue eyes had turned yellow. Your porcelain skin was cracked and dry. Your breathing was fast and hard. I want to forget.
I remember when I found out that your time with us had ended. I heard the words but not what they meant. I felt sick. I felt defeated. I felt helpless. I want to forget.
I remember the day we celebrated your life. The beautiful music. The pews overflowing with people who loved you. The tiny roses we wore. The prayer cards we clenched. The bible verse your big brother read. The embrace your big sister gave your mommy as she said her final goodbyes. The way daddy kissed your casket. I never want to forget.