Grief measured in caterpillars...

You know, grief can be a strange thing. Difficult, unpredictable, unreliable. You can work through your "issues", feel like you're in a better place one minute, then something so minuscule, like say, a caterpillar or a cup of them; can just throw you into a tailspin and leave you wondering where this latest wave of grief came from.

You see when we lost our Emily almost six years ago, it was devastating. You can't imagine the impact that a tiny baby who only lived a few short hours, could have on your heart. I had never felt such grief before. It enveloped me. It changed me from who I had been to someone new. I had a new "normal", which I hated. I wanted to be the naive woman I had been before. I wanted to worry about my hair and my how my skin looked, instead of pondering eternal questions, seeing small white caskets. Slowly I began to create my new self. Day by day I spun my web, wrapping myself up in my new identity. Wishing all the while I could go back to my former stage. I know what you're thinking, right about now. You're saying to yourselves, "Ah, I see she's weaving a metaphor about herself and the caterpillars..." Well, you're wrong. That's not it at all...

You see I was awoken this morning to Caitlyn's scream, "AIDEN --You've made the caterpillars NOT turn into butterflies!!!" I knew immediately what had happened. Just yesterday I had marveled at the little changing caterpillars myself. I have been awe struck through out this entire last week, watching them grow and grow, getting ready for their big change. Just yesterday the first one hung himself up on the top of the cup, and the others were soon to follow, they would probably be up there this morning...and they were, before the tornado got to them. I ran into the living room to find Caitlyn's little hands wrapped around the cup, "Mommy LOOK!" Aiden had thrown down the cup and had dislodged all of the crysalids. They were now lying in the muck of food and whatever that stuff is...I was immediately struck with sadness. I had so been looking forward to watching the entire life cycle of these little critters. I was so anticipating watching them emerge from the cocoon and having that beautiful moment with my children. Then it hit me. That was exactly the feeling I had when I found out that our beautiful Emily would not make it. I had so looked forward to first steps, dance classes, reading books, the prom, her wedding and in a flash it was all shattered. Her "life cycle" was cut short by some strange twist of fate and here I was this morning experiencing it again...Wow, what a way to start a day. Most days I am in a good place with her loss. I know it sounds crazy, but I know she is with her Savior and has been made whole and really I would not have it any other way. But, every so often I am taken back to that place in which my life was forever changed, and the feelings well up again, such that I must take a moment and embrace that grief.

So what did I do? Well, I spent the afternoon (crying and) scouring the internet trying to figure out how to save those little caterpillars. I followed the directions that I found, carefully removing them from their comfortable, little cup to a new, foreign habitat. I'm still not sure if they are going to make it; but at least I tried.

Caitlyn said, "Mommy, I think they are just asleep right now. I think they will be butterflies." Bless her heart. She is such an optimist. I praise God that He saw fit to bless me again with another sweet girl. I am so lucky.

I may not be the woman I once was, and I may struggle at times, but I know that after the cocoon is the final, beautiful stage. For now, I'm still tightly woven into my little cocoon, no longer the caterpillar, but in a delicate process looking forward to that someday when maybe I'll be a butterfly...
(okay, so I'm a sucker for a good metaphor)