It came...

and went.
Just like that.
To quote Mad Men quoting Balzac; "Our worst fears lie in anticipation."
Beneath all the worry and fear, I sort of knew that the first anniversary of Lucy's death would turn out to be a rather ordinary day.
The mail was delivered, people went to work. The sun rose in the East and set in the West.
It occurred to me that probably every day is like that for someone on the earth.
Every day as we go about our normal lives someone, probably hundreds of someones, somewhere are thinking "How can life just go on as if nothing ever happened?"
If nothing else, losing Lucy has made me more aware of human suffering, mourning and grief. That kind that goes on everywhere, everyday, we just generally don't notice it. We truly are all fighting our own battle.

It's almost freeing to realize that it's a normal day and it's okay to be "normal" and just be sad in my heart. I am surprised by how much freedom from grief I have found in the passage of time. I feel guilty admitting it, but I'm glad to be here and not back there. Although I would give anything to spend even one more minute with Lucy, I realize that is not mortally possible and I am glad that we have settled into a place where we can live and be happy and normal but still love and miss her.
We visited Lucy's grave. We took gourmet cupcakes and a special, very pink and sparkly, 1 year old wreath Ben and I made for her. The kids played in the shade of the big "mushroom trees" as they call them and Ben and I spent some quiet time in reflection, lots of tears and a few smiles.
I thought a lot about what it would be like to have a 1 year old Lucy here with us. Celebrating. Smiling, laughing, stuffing fist fulls of chocolate cupcake into her mouth and nose. I can only hope that she knows how much we love her and miss her and wish she was here. We do. So, so much.

We had a special dinner, ate more cupcakes and planted a tree. An oak tree, a gift from a dear friend.
Then the day was done. It was all over and we had survived to tell about it, together.
Now we are here, at the base of this next mountain called the second year.

I have read many other loss bloggers write about people who haven't "been around" at all since their loss suddenly showing up. With guilt and apologies, during the second year. Strangely enough, 1 day in and I have already experienced this. Perhaps that first anniversary makes other people reflect on how they have handled things? Or rather how they haven't.
Forgive? Sounds good.
Forget? I'm not sure I could.

Lucy, you are so very loved, and so very, very missed.