This post is for a writing challenge on the phrase "If I could change anything I would." Every Tuesday there's a new challenge. You can join HERE.
I want to write a beautiful post about how accepting things the way they are, leads to peace.
I want to be big enough to say:
If I could change anything, I would change nothing.
However, all I feel after writing this sentence is electricity in my skin. Everything in me pushes against acceptance. When I close my eyes, I am standing at a precipice and acceptance feels like I am making a decision to throw her off of the edge. Acceptance feels like every nerve in my body is focused on “no”.
I could also claim that if I could change anything, I would change everything.
But that would mean my sweet M may not be here, and as I look down at her sweaty curls and her grubby fingertips, I can't imagine a single second of my life without her.
Four and a half years is a long time to push the "what if things were different" out of your head.
This beautiful post could be about fluctuation and entire seasons of change. It could be about imagining a world where both of my girls are sitting together with their foreheads touching, whispering in the dark. It could be about a world where possibility is immeasurable, and innocence is intact.
But it's not. Because when the subject of change comes up, my mind always races to her. Would I change the circumstances of her birth and death? That question is too laden with sub-context for me to answer.
Four and a half years is a long time to ruminate on changing a single event in your life.
At one time, I expressed my post-loss existence as having one foot in heaven, and one foot on earth. If I lean too far towards either place I will eventually lose my balance and end up crumpled on the ground, being nowhere at all.
Imagining change is too difficult in this context. The ramifications of either choice would be too life-altering.
I guess, ultimately, this means I would change nothing.
But there is no peace in this. There is only a raw aching feeling in my chest at having failed my girl.
{I feel I must reference back to this, an all-encompassing post on acceptance, after writing today’s post. If I would have chosen anything other than my loss for this prompt, it would have been disingenuous. However, I am most definitely in the camp of acceptance.... almost all of the time.}
- Friday, July 17, 2015
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