On Sunday, when I was visiting Bella, I came across a bird that was "trapped" in the mausoleum. The bird had flown in and couldn't find its way out, so it just kept flying straight into a big window. I watched it for a little bit and I considered helping it. My first reaction was to help it actually, and then my bitter side kicked in, and I thought, "It'll be fine. Don't worry about the stupid bird."
Lately, that's how my thought's have been. I've developed a feeling of indifference towards some people, things, and situations. I hate feeling that way, but honestly, I could care less about people complaining that they are having the worst day ever because things just aren't going right. Try having the worst 5 months of your life, then come talk to me. Horrible, I know. It's just hard.
I sat down at Bella's spot to read my book. I looked at her pictures. Then I finally gave in, and got up to help the bird. I'm convinced it was one of Bella's nudges that encourage me to be nice. As I was getting closer, the bird panicked and started trying harder than before to get through the window. When I was really close, I put my sweater over it, and the bird stopped struggling. I gently picked it up and looked at it. It watched me intently, but it didn't move. I was scared that it would bite me, but it just kept looking at me. I thought about taking it back to Bella's spot and keeping it for a little while, but that didn't make sense. So I walked it outside, opened my hands, and watched it fly away. I can't explain why, but I felt better. Maybe because I helped it? Or possibly because it reminded me that sometimes letting go is the best thing you could do.
Over and over, I've played out different scenarios in my mind. I could've held on longer. I could've chosen to keep fighting. I could've done more to keep her here. However, I know in my heart that I let her go because I love her. I let her go because as her mother, I couldn't ask her to be strong for me. I couldn't ask her to fight a battle that she wouldn't win. I'd give anything to have her back. Anything. But in all honesty, I'd feel this pain anyday, as long as she's free of pain. I know she's not suffering anymore. Wherever Bella is, it must be beautiful. Despite the fact that I'm in a love-hate relationship with God, I know that He's taking care of her. I know that He must really love me if He gave Bella to me. To be able to say that I've held an angel in my arms, is an honor.
I saw a therapist a few months after Bella passed away. She was a very nice lady, and she seemed to be surrounded by death. She had all these stories to tell me about her loved ones dying. It was sad, but the way she talked about it, it didn't seem sad. She kept talking about all the lessons that death taught her. It taught her to cherish people. It taught her to love. It taught her things about herself. I liked her, but I stopped seeing her. It's weird. I felt like I had nothing to tell her. I knew that my decision was right. I didn't hate Bella's dad or God, at the time. I missed her, but I could function. I thought I could deal on my own, without her help or anyone else's for that matter. But as time has progressed, my feelings have completely changed. I still feel that I made the right decision for Bella. However, it's harder to function; life without her is empty and just seems to get emptier as each day passes. My heart is filling with hate, and I don't like the feeling. Maybe, I'm just looking for someone to be angry at, someone to blame.
She suggested that I go out, on my own, and allow myself to cry. She suggested this on the very first day that I met her. She told me that the only way to heal was to allow myself to feel the pain. To really truly feel it. To sream at the top of my lungs, to no one in particular. To give myself a chance to feel sorry for myself. To not be strong. And to this day, I can't do it. I unconsciously avoid being alone, or in my room, or being in my car too long. I don't know what I'm so afraid of. School ends this week, and I'm going to take her advice. I need to, or else I'm going to go crazy.
I remember the first time you got the hiccups. It was 5 am, and everything was silent. I could feel you hiccuping in my belly and I was so excited that I didn't move the entire time. I couldn't stop smiling. I remember the first time I laid eyes on you, I had never known a love so intense that it took my breath away. The first time you smiled at me will forever be imbedded in my heart. I'll never forget your first giggle. You giggled because your uncle Jorge tickled your little double chin and name it Chelly. Every memory is a gift, and I will forever be grateful that we were given the opportunity to make memories together. I love you my little lovebug.