August 4th…I have not been paying attention to the dates lately. I knew Natal Day was August 1st but with summer off with the kids the dates seem to be blending together. However, the last couple of nights I had several dreams of Rehtaeh. Of course the dreams often result in her being here with her family. The theme usually revolves around her death being a mistake (which it truly was) and that she was still here alive and well.
When I wake there is this moment in time, a brief, brief waking moment where my life is “normal” then reality hits me. I tell myself “She is not here Leah! Rehtaeh is not here.” Usually, as the day continues on my pain/sadness retreat and stay hidden just under the surface. Anything can trigger the pain and the tears come readily and easily but I am able to laugh and joke and live this “new normal” as I continue on my daily activities.
Today, I was driving along and suddenly I felt the need to imagine Rehtaeh’s features in my mind. I needed to envision her hands, her legs, the top of her thigh where her very first mole appeared when she was just a little girl. I needed to see this in my mind and not in a photo. I was desperate to remember everything and it all came to me so clearly. The tears began as they usually do and I looked up to see a sign with today’s date on it August 4th 2016.
Its August 4th and although I always reflect and remember the life of my child, the 4th day of each month always arrives with an extra layer of emotion. This month I was not dreading the date because I lost track of days but my body remembered. The body has its own wisdom. I could feel it coming over the past couple days weepy and fragile. Emotionally it was time to allow the pain to flow through all the cracks and rise to the surface in all its glory. There truly is a beautiful component to pain.
Its been 3 years and 4 months since I held my girl but I remember and I recall. Its all still there. I remember what she smells like. I remember what she feels like. I can envision all the little details that made her so unique in this earthly world. I love and miss my “Rae of Light” today and everyday. Today I give thanks to my body for allowing so much space for my pain and giving me a bit more to feel pleasure and laughter once again.