The weekend was crazy. Friday night, we had 19 people sleep over. Saturday, we had 23. On Thursday I made a huge Costco run and that was our food for the weekend.
I didn't sleep we'll for a week before the memorial...because so many people were going to be sleeping over and I had a eulogy to write and all I could think of to say was, Paige had a crap life and then Paige died. I figured it wouldn't go over well, so I spent nights fretting about how that was all I had to say.
A friend with a child similar to Paige checked in on me because she knew the memorial was coming up and she helped me come up with stuff to say. It was really nice of her and must have been hard to put herself in my shoes for some time.
When I don't sleep well, I cry easily. So a half hour before Paige's memorial was to start, I started crying. It was rather ridiculous. I was hiding in my bathroom, holding Clara and listening to my niece chatter on about something and was crying.
Finally, I pulled myself together and started the memorial, after everyone arrived. I started crying during the poem, because tired does that to me and I imagined a car driving off of a cliff. I just kept thinking, keep going!!! Keep going!!! The car will right itself if you just keep going!!! I pulled I back together not too long after.
I explained our new pink dogwood tree. A tree we planted because it would be pink in spring and Paige was so very pretty in pink. It's supposed to be pretty all year long and will stand out well against our evergreens.
I started with a poem by anonymous:
In tears we saw you sinking
And watched you pass away
Our hearts were broken
Because we wanted you to stay
When we saw you slipping away
So peaceful and free of pain
How could we wish you back with us
To suffer that again
It broke our hearts to lose you
But you did not go alone
For a part of us went with you
The day God took you home
Then I talked about our dreams. I had dreamed of Paige and Natalie playing together, running, laughing, holding hands, but that wasn't to be. So I dreamed of her learning to sit, grow strong and to still play with her sisters, just in a manner more appropriate to her skills, but that also wasn't to be. So I dreamed of her not hurting, of not suffering, of her not having to fight for every single moment of her life. Most of all, I hoped that despite everything, she somehow knew she was loved.
Then I talked about Paige. Paige was sick her whole life and spent her final weeks surrounded by those that loved her. She had eight months without a seizure, during which she learned to roll over and to explore things with her mouth and hands. She liked bells, music, sweet treats and being held. She hated being cold and for a while baths. If she encountered something she didn't prefer, she would pretend to be asleep. Her death is a curse and blessing. For while she is no longer here, she also no longer suffers.
Then I spread her ashes around her tree. And as I got the last of her ashes out, I heard a car pull up our driveway. No kidding. Oh well, we started a half hour late.
The rest of the day was eating and visiting.
Today I was working on our yearly photo book and had to do February, our last month with Paige. It'sstill strange to think that there will never be a new picture of her.
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