Remembering

Yesterday would have been Zoe's 5th birthday. Nellie asked that we make Zoe a cake, which we did (and it's probably one of the best cakes I've made in a while). She also decided we should have red (dark pink) icing, because we love Zoe.

We were incredibly busy yesterday - school fundraiser for #2's school in the morning, then home to have lunch and a nap, then baking the cake, then off to family for supper. In a way, it was a good thing. Too much time sitting around would have given me too much time to think. I did find myself dragging my feet through most of the day though. Heading off to be social in the morning was the last thing I wanted to do. I just didn't have the energy to be all bright and shiny. Later, in the afternoon, when #2 was being the biggest pain ever, I didn't have the energy to really deal with it properly either.

I feel I should have done more. Part of me wanted to erect a massive monument, to do something huge and ostentatious. Part of me just wanted a quiet little ceremony. Of course, it's not too late. I know that I can choose to commemorate her any day I want to. We can do something else during the holidays if we really want to.

I was wondering about scattering her ashes. We've scattered some at our family holiday home, and some into the roots of her tree here at home, but there's still some left. At the time, I couldn't bear to part with all of her. Now I think I might be ready. But where do we scatter them? I want to choose somewhere special, that won't later belong to someone else, somewhere public that we will always have access to. In this regard, I envy those who have a grave site to go to. Having somewhere physical to go to, to lay some flowers, to remember - there's power in that.

I think that's partly why we got her a tree - in a huge pot. At least we can take the tree with us wherever we live (within reason). I know that her flesh is becoming part of that tree, creating life out of death. But even trees die...

I don't know - this grieving process thing is so complicated when the death is that of a child. It's just not right. Not right at all.