standing with the girl who says she is nothing

I met her in brilliant sun in Edmonton at the Walk to Remember where I spoke. I was alone and felt as though Liam had gone elsewhere and so I stole moments with my camera, and watched, and overheard. I looked upon the backs of uncles and grandmothers in their memorial t-shirts, and watched as the sky filled with blue and pink balloons above a crowd of four hundred, each with a story to tell.

And I met her, and when I did, she was alone too, but she was not.

Some kind of magic was in the air that day, and I saw it around her: at the risk of presuming what she would or wouldn't mind hearing, I saw the imprint of a baby just as determined as her mama, an ephemeral sprite.

She is half my age, elastic and yet so fragile. Later, after I complimented her on the portrait I took, she wrote to me I don't feel I'm Beautiful cause I feel like Nothing right now, ever since this happened.

I replied I know you feel like nothing. I did too. Don't feel like you're floundering because you don't understand, or because you're not yourself anymore. You are exactly where you need to be. You don't need to be more or less than what you are right this second. You'll probably never 'understand', but you will learn a new sort of self. The darkness and the nothingness... it fades away, I promise.

Does it, though? Maybe not.

Maybe our eyes simply get accustomed and like the creatures at the bottom of the deepest trenches in the ocean we evolve, willing ourselves to glow, to electrify the murk. Our eyes dilate, pupils engorged to suck up the remnants of light that seep through from thousands of feet above and dissipate into the vastness of this watery cavern.

At least now I can see.

+++++

I don't know about all of you, but I'm deep in a Thanksgiving coma. Mentally speaking, that is. The Are You There, God? It's Me, Medusa blogolympics that took over Glow for the past month have left me stuffed and languorous, stretching out with ankles crossed, brain and heart both full up beyond the brim.

We are so richly accompanied by one another. By those who comment, who blog on their own, who contribute. And by those who absorb quietly, because we know you're here with us, perhaps sitting in the corner in an old rocker with a busted cane seat that's bolstered with an ancient, flattened pillow. You sit and you listen and sip something hot as the fireplace crackles, and you nod sometimes, and your silent presence adds heat to the room.

We're all so different - what we went through, the point from which we began, what we believe. And yet in your voices I hear the thump of my own heart.

I am sorry that your hands have had to dig deep into the earth alongside mine, desperately searching for coals.  ~ Angie

I got to be the parent of the physical manifestation of the feeling of hope. I got to hold Hope in my arms. And you want me to mourn that? Are you kidding me?!  ~ Dave

This is where you are. This is what has happened. Given exactly where you are, with exactly what you have at hand, how do you cherish your dreams again? How do you dream again?  ~ Kara

This is my life, my only one - this is all I get. I do not get to pick and choose what I get to experience. I know that one day I will experience joy again - not the same type of unfettered, naive joy that I did before, but joy nonetheless - and the only way to get there is through this hell.  ~ Natalie

In that space, for just a moment, I heard His voice. 'I'm here. They mattered. They matter to me. They were my beloved. You are my beloved.'  ~ Lori

'The way in which every living being comes to earth depends on accumulated karma. The better our deeds, the better the opportunities we get in this life to perform better deeds. In the end some pious souls get freed from this cycle of rebirth. I believe that your young son was one such Divine Soul who only needed a short time before being freed forever from this cycle...'  ~ Rosepetal

The believer is like the grain crops - the wind continually beats it back and forth. And a believer continues to be afflicted with trials. We have to bend with our trials - not be like a strong tree that would break with a stronger wind.  ~ Souad

It wasn't necessarily that I thought I deserve miracles more than someone else - I'm flawed in a million different ways - I just thought I deserved them too.  ~ Kristin

All people no matter how small, all lives for no matter how short or long they bloom, are powerful, full of power. Blue poppies take root in mountainous scree; there is a place for happiness in the hard conversations of loss.  ~ Katie

+++++

Thank you. You, right there, taking in these words, sister or brother, or simply friend. Thank you for being here, for adding sound and light and heat and chatter. And sometimes tears, and sometimes a smile.

There will always be this comfort, this touchstone. I see myself in her eyes, in the eyes of that seventeen-year-old mother standing on a chalked cement path on the Canadian prairie, and I see an echo of my own baby in the ephemeral sprite of hers.

Comments

[Lori]

Thank you for bringing together such a unique and eloquent group of voices. I was honored to be among them. The gift was mine; telling that story was the most healing thing I could have done during this month when the memories of my babies are so close.

That photo. That beautiful girl/mama. She took my breath away. She is definitely not Nothing.

[Vicki]

Very much the picture of what lies beyond our own sight. Hope is a glorious thing, even in the air of loss. Hope for a better tomorrow...a better minute...a better second. We are never nothing when we retain that hope...

[Bon]

one of the things i notice that i'm left with in the end is the ability to see and appreciate beauty and light like i hadn't before...and that girl emanates it, indeed.

as do the words here. thanks for the recap, Kate. i fed on the blogolympics like a feast indeed, and the taste of the words again was welcome, refreshing, sustaining.

[janis]

ditto what everyone has said so far. What an incredible month this has been, and so appropriate too, as we close in to Samhain, crossing over and yet it too is a time of rememberance. I have been bowed over by all the posts we have gotten, and want to reiterate my thanks to our guest posters who have shared so beautifully with us.

[Mother Henna aka Kara]

Wow, my gawd, Kate, this photo, the mama you snapped here, she's stunningly beautiful. I sooooooooooo see the ethereal there, too. Thank you so much for this post. You've made me cry. In a "good" way. I've felt all month long that the blogolympics had this strength and permeation of being. But seeing all the snippets you pulled out and put one after the other here -- whoooooooosh, I'm knocked over, knocked out. So very glad we connected!
miracles,
k-

[Robin]

Thank you so much for this outlet. You have me in tears yet again. I feel they're safe here.

[Amanda]

She's beautiful. She's not nothing. I hope she reads you here, I hope she sees that we see her, and that no matter how alone, small, or lost she feels, she has all of us around her, holding onto her in our hearts.

We all feel so alone with this sometimes, but look at what you've given us here- the knowledge that although our plight is lonely, we are NOT alone. There are so many of us, and there is strength in that. We all understand in a way that no one else can. We can all cling to each other's words, there in the darkness, whispering "It's okay, it will be okay, we're here, too, we know, too" like sisters under the blankets after a bad dream.

We see you, mama. We're looking right at you, and you're incredible.

[Sally]

This just reminds me exactly why we named our daughter Hope. We may have lost Hope, but we did not lose hope...
And Amanda, you are so right when you say "although our plight is lonely, we are NOT alone".
I still can't believe I am here, but I am so happy to have found this place.
Thanks Kate, this was a beautiful way to wrap up the month.

[Erica]

There's something truly magical and hopeful about that portrait. Thanks for sharing, Kate.
And thanks to the woman in the portrait - you're beautiful. I'm sorry it hurts so much.

It's so easy to feel like nothing, to fall into hopelessness looking for the light at the end of the tunnel. The bits we can do to make things brighter for each other can be so important, even when they feel so monumentally inadequate. I've been frequenting this site for about two months, two months I thought at times would wreck and ruin me, and your voices have been lifelines, warm cups of tea, moments of shelter, and flashes of hope. I'm so grateful for this place, and for all of you.

[thordora]

Amen Kate.

She is more than not Nothing. She is lifetimes of something wonderful. To be as wise as she must be so young...the unseen gift of all that hurt.

You took the time for her...

[mamie]

i wish i could hold her and give her a hug. you captured a moment and maybe someday she will look at it again and see herself in it. i hope for her and for all of you that the something you need comes to you.

[Shawna]

Thank you Kate , and to everyone who has commented . I have been trying to deal with everything the best I can , but it doesnt seem to be working im only 17 and im so confused about everything . Everyday I hope when I wake up that it was all a bad dream , that I still have my beautiful baby inside my stomach protecting her and keeping her warm , but than I look down and realize it wasn`t really a bad dream .. that`s when I realize I have an angel , who watches over me every second and every minute of everyday , and I feel blessed . Knowing I have kate and many wonderful people I can talk to , and who can talk to me .. Let`s me know im not alone .
Thank you .
- shawna