the mushroom

Tears were trying to escape from behind my eyelids, and I didn’t know what to do with myself, or my baby, for the rest of the evening. There was only one place that was right, that was fitting, for this type of mood: the cemetery.

It may be strange that I am taking my rainbow baby to the cemetery to hang out, but I don’t care. It’s peaceful, it’s solemn, it’s real. A place where people have grieved, have thought about loss, have reflected on life. This is where I want to be, if not necessarily what I feel like doing. It feels surreal and strange to be grieving, on one hand, and to be so extremely grateful and happy on the other.

I wander from one area of the graveyard to the other, stopping at the headstones of babies. I start to cry. It’s not even so much about Avalon, as it is just about life, and loss, in general. How can the world be so paradoxical? How can this be a place where the child in your arms brings you the most amazing happiness and contentedness you’ve ever had, while meanwhile your other child is dead, the love of your life breaks your heart again and again, and you look around and see that death and heartbreak happens to everyone, everywhere, all the time. It’s the same world where the majestic Himalayas take your breath away, the Redwoods speak directly to the ancient spirit in your blood, and the autumn sunset in your backyard is so scenic you wonder why you ever leave at all.

There are times when I just need to be somewhere that is about loss, and about grief. This evening was definitely one of those times. My heart swelled and hurt and ached fiercely. I couldn’t despair though, because at the same time, a beautiful, perfect daughter was in my arms, looking up at me with a smile, content to be held by me and play with the necklace I was wearing.

Life, will you ever make sense?

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A single mushroom blooms in front of Avalon’s grave… no other mushrooms were sighted in the cemetery

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