Finley asked me this morning if on Christmas morning we'd have to wait for Livia before we opened presents. It took my breath away, and confused me.
I explained to her that Livia is in Heaven, and we won't see her again until we get there. She didn't dwell on it, and quickly moved passed the idea. She just said, "Ok, I think I'll sleep in then."
This has been a hard week. The hardest since. Just like Finley's question this morning, emotions and thoughts are so different and at times very confusing. Today, I feel determined, strong, and focused. I've set up a meeting for a volunteer opportunity that will hopefully help me grow, contribute, and get involved in something I'm very passionate about.
A lovely friend of mine blogged yesterday about her son and blueberry pancakes. You can read it here. It hit home because blueberry pancakes were Livia's favorite. I understand how she is feeling. However, it got me thinking. It got to a point with Livia that we couldn't even let her taste things. We tried because we wanted to. We'd give her something like a tiny smear of ice cream in her mouth, or whipped cream, and she hated it. It almost appeared as if it were painful to even taste. She made a horrible face that we would giggle at, but awe at, at the same time because we felt bad. For a moment, I felt happy that she was free from the body that fought so hard against her. That kept her from tasting her beloved foods. That immobilized her. That caused her pain. I hate that my child had to go through what she did. I hate that she is gone, but I can find peace in the freedom that she has now gained. That as each day passes, it's one day closer to seeing her again. That as some days paralyze me in sadness, there will be strong days that are inspired by what she went through. I can feel my heart being fueled today by memories of her blueberry stained face, with chocolate milk stained pajamas.