This post is for a writing challenge on the phrase "I Write Because". Every Tuesday there's a new challenge. You can join HERE. 


 I write because....


I do not want to forget the weight of her in my hands. I want to close my eyes and recall every last inch of her. Her soft hair curled so tightly to her head. 

She was so beautiful. Just perfectly lovely.


I write because...

Years have gone by and very few people say her name. She could be just another accident of nature, but I am determined not to let that happen. 

Her story is valuable to the human narrative. Knowledge of every life is vital to our survival. We learn from each and every breath taken this side of heaven -- even when those breaths are of limited number. 


I write because....

Women need to be aware that continuing a pregnancy isn't just about religious beliefs and that they aren't causing their children to suffer by allowing their pregnancy to continue to its
natural conclusion. I want them to know that peace begins in the womb and bringing a baby into the world is always a good thing, no matter what the circumstances.

I write because....

It keeps me grounded. I remember how easily things change. In the twinkling of an eye, my life could change and I could lose so much of that which is so precious to me.

Writing brings clarity to my thought process. It helps me separate those thoughts into categories which affect my interactions with people in my life. It allows me to center myself on the items which are important and let go of the rest.

I write because...

This is her space and it always will be. The place where, after I clarify and organize my thoughts, I can direct my focus towards the memory of her.  

This writing is the thumbprint of the life we still share -- her silent and waiting for me, and I yearning for Paradise where I can hold her again. 

I write because....

There would be little else to do during the night, when insomnia keeps me awake. Instead of ruminating on her life and what went wrong, I spend that wide-eyed time writing little love letters to my eldest daughter. 

Letting go of the "what-ifs" is usually the most difficult part of working through a devastating circumstance. Being here helps to quiet the questions.

This is her space

 

I write because...

I hope that someone will hear me calling. That someone will love her as consistently as I do, and will understand why her story is worth paying attention to.

I want others to comprehend the difference between inherent worth and worth based on contributions, and see her inherent worth.

I write because....

If I didn't my life would cease being enriched with her memory. I would find myself untethered to the veracity of my experience. Her and I, together, was one of my most profound encounters. 

She shaped me into this person. The person who dreamed of a girl with untamed curls and then brought her to life in spite of the fear that I would lose another daughter.

I write because I can.

So I do.