TWO DATES

There are two dates on the calendar that have taught me the most about life. And it’s not that other dates don’t have meaning. But these two dates… sometimes they come in loud and hard and challenge me not to break. Other times, they sneak up on me with barely a whisper and shake me to my core. Dates can be a cause for celebration or they can hold as much power as you are willing to concede. 

Have you heard of numerology? I’m not an expert of the philosophy by any means but my cursory dip into that pool has confirmed to me the power that numbers play in our existence. The scientist in me believes that all of this, this swirling and infinite loop of time, of seconds, hours, minutes are all parts of grand calculations that chart the course of how we exist on this particular planet among one another. If you are open to that philosophy, then I want you to hang on to this number: 3. Just keep that number on hand.

Now back to these two dates… 

Constance Elizabeth, Connie for short, was born on May 16. She was but a tiny little beautiful thing and extremely premature at just 24 ½ weeks gestation. Try as I might, my body just could not keep her safely nestled inside even with as much intervention as my medical team could muster. She weighed just 1 pound and 6.9 ounces (649 grams) and yes, every single one of those ounces (and grams) was important. The day she was born, my heart evolved in ways that I still can’t find the words for. But that might be because before I knew it…

The second date came… July 3. 

July 3… my baby girl, Connie, was granted her wings. I call it her angel date and nearly 20 years later, I can still see and feel her taking her last breath. I had 48 days with her before she joined her relatives in the ancestral plane. She taught me so much in those 48 days and she continues to teach me to this day. I carry her with me always. And I talk about her with my son, who was born a preemie as well after her passing.

Grief is an interesting thing. It’s never the same from one person to the next and it’s never the same from one loss to the next. Grief continues to take me on this bendy, winding path. I used to be really just angry a lot and aim so much blame at myself for not protecting her like a mother should. But I have found peace now even though it is paired with sorrow. That peace has been helping me adjust to the loss of my father, my Daddy, this year.

I told you numbers were powerful. Did you hold on to that number 3? So here are some interesting connections that I will keep brief because, honestly, the list is LONG.

5/3 : my birthday 

7/3 : Connie’s angel day

1/3 : my Daddy’s angel day

5+3=8 : my son was born on the 8th

Now take Connie’s birthday: 5+1+6=12… 1+2=3

Takes my breath away every time.

So where is my path going next? It’s here, in these words, in these truths. The 7/3 Journey. I hope you will join me.