Saturday, May 9, 2015


I was thrilled to find a bunch of forget-me-not flowers while strolling with R the other day.  I rushed home so my husband could take a picture of us holding the flowers.  He said, "Smile!"  I did, and waited for him to take the picture.  He didn't.  "SMILE" he said.  Again, I did and waited.  "No, really S-M-I-L-E," he said.  I felt like I was pushing my lips up against my eyeballs and couldn't smile any harder.  He hesitantly took the picture. 

Bereaved mother

When I looked at the picture, I was taken aback.  My face looked flat and without a sparkle.  Was this really me?  The smile was there, but where was the spark?  The light?  I am kind to myself, knowing not to be too hard on myself just two and a half months after Quinn died, but my goal is to allow moments of genuine happiness while still holding Quinn tightly in my heart.  Eventually, I hope to put the spark back in my smile…sometimes.

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