Thursday, August 26, 2010

A Sad-Happy Day

Another (mostly) good day. Hooray. I had a really great time with my dad and brother—the camaraderie shared over mutual enjoyment of thrill rides is pretty awesome. Even coming home to find that the brand new A/C is not working again (ARGH) didn’t put too much of a damper on the lingering warm feelings from the day.

The only sad moments I had today were not unlike the ones I had the last time I went to an amusement park, about four weeks after Hudson died, right around the time I started this blog. But today’s sadness felt more wistful and nostalgic than sharp and painful. Today, my eye kept being drawn to the many little girls at the park, little girls of all ages, from Hudson’s age up through teenagers. I just couldn’t stop wondering what my little girl would have looked like, what she would have been like at those ages. Would she finally have gotten enough hair for some pigtails? Would she have grown tall and lanky? Would she be a squirmer or would she have been patient? (I have a pretty good guess on this one.) Would she still have let her daddy hold her hand even when she was eleven or twelve? Would she have liked roller coasters like her mama?

Long before Hudson died, Ed and I used to talk about how weird it was to not know what your child will look like when she is older, when she is five and ten and twenty years old. I am sitting here just growing sadder and sadder thinking about how we will never know (have I mentioned how much grief sucks this way?). This picture is the oldest she will ever look. Oh, my girl, we miss you so much.

12 comments:

  1. Get used to seeing the black beans picture a lot. It's a precious one, in many, many ways.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I love this picture and all the ones of Hudson. Glad today was mostly fun and wish I could ride the coasters with ya- you're always welcome to come out here and try out Southern CA amusement parks.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I often think of how much I've long admired you, then my heart sinks thinking of your loss. You are persevering and that's a good thing.

    ReplyDelete
  4. After reading every blog post I think about how brave and raw you are with your sharing. I feel fortunate to read these words and remember this sweet girl. Is it selfish to say this blog some days is my "one good thing"? To have someone share honestly and to continue to share like you have is a blessing. Thanks for keeping your heart open for us to see.

    ReplyDelete
  5. What a picture...our girl..the eyes say it all..Barbara D.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Your sweet girl, she's so beautiful. Enjoying her black bean.

    For some reason, teenage girls always pull at my heart for the reasons that you articulate here. That I will simply never know what she would have looked like at that age.

    ReplyDelete
  7. Having both teen agers, and a toddler, I totally know where you are coming from. My older two no longer resemble the squirming, forever curious versions of themselves I know those many years ago, and yet the do. Both of them have the same smiles they have always had, and their eyes still speak the same language as they always have.
    I suspect Hudson would have been just as impish, and just as curious later on as she was. The forthrightness of her eyes, and her unabashed joy at life would have continued too - though she would likely have tried to hide them under some teenage affectation of indifference. And i think she'd still hold Ed's hand, but probably only on the couch during movie night.

    Yet the fact that you can even consider these what-ifs, as we all do for our children, spekas of both your strength and your healing. Never doubt what a wonderful person an dmother you are, and never doubt how great a person hudson was, even if only for a short time.

    YOU ROCK!

    ReplyDelete
  8. Mandy, I love the picture of Hudson with her black beans. I'm sad it's the last one you'll have of her. Reading your last few posts, I am thankful you've been able to have a small reprieve from the worst of the grieving for a few days now. Thinking of you guys always.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I have just discovered your blog through the griefinteruppted blog. I too lost my daughter at the age of four and a half and not a day goes by where I don't wonder what she'd be like now at eleven....that yearning will always bet here I think.

    Most days are tough but some days are just pure pain. I'm sure Hudson would be beautiful.

    I will keep you in my thoughts...this may sound crazy but I've always wanted to get one of those age progression pictures drawn of my daughter and what she would look like now....maybe finding your blog is a sign I should do it.
    Sending a hug,
    Diana Doyle http://sunshineinabluecup.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete
  10. I see so much of you in her little face-- Ed is there, too, in some of the roundness of her little cheeks, but I think she would have looked a lot like you did. I'm so, so glad that there is at least a little goodness in yoiur life this week-- it's good that your grief is allowing you a few days (and hopefully many more) of respite.

    ReplyDelete
  11. I also adore the black beans picture. Those eyes, wow. Today on my way to work, I noticed a side street I pass by each day is called Hudson St. I hadn't noticed the little green sign before peeking through the tree branches. This made me smile. Wishing you more happiness, hope, peace, and fixed A/C throughout the weekend.

    kirsten 2lilbirds

    ReplyDelete
  12. In children's church yesterday as I sat and watched Amaris play with the kids, I smiled when one boy called out to his brother..."Hudson, where you going?" She remains always in our hearts and minds...especially when we eat black beans. :-)

    ReplyDelete