Tucking It Away

So, I began my new job by heading off to a training in Phoenix this week.  When I went in for the interview initially, I never mentioned losing a child as part of the reason we moved to this area.  I don't like starting a conversation like this, "Hi!  My name is Kati and I lost my daughter 1 year, 2 months and 19 days ago.  It's so great to meet you!"  So, as is often the case, it stays tucked in my heart where it is safe.

There have been moments while working at Home Depot where someone has commented on my necklace and asked what it meant.  And, depending on the day, it will depend on how I respond.  There are some days where the tears well up in my eyes and I tearfully explain that my 4 year old daughter passed away last year.  Often times, it's a God thing because the people that I share that with are empathetic.  I of course feel bad and instantly apologize for unleashing the 'grief' on an unsuspecting stranger.  There are those very rare days when I am able to not tear up.  Again, those are rare.

There have also been those moments at Home Depot where people have asked what I was doing before moving down to this area.  When I respond with, "I was teaching preschool" they often think I'm completely off my rocker somewhat insane for leaving a job such as that to work for Home Depot.  When I give a little back story and...depending on the person, I explain that my daughter passed away last year, the typical response is *gasp* "Oh Kati no!  I would never have known that about you.  What happened?"  *insert the sniffles...and the story as time/customers allow*

So, as is much the fashion with working at Home Depot, I encounter similar things like that at this training.  I ended up sharing this piece of information with my main team and with my roommate *poor girl*.  I pulled this out of my heart so much this week that it started to pain me.  Greatly.  It has left that part of my heart raw and tender...again.  I put my head down on my pillow Thursday night in a very uncomfortable luxurious bed and silently cried myself to sleep.

In the course of the week, I had carefully unpacked the hurt from my heart, and put it on like a long-sleeved shirt.  If you saw my status on FB this week, one of the 1st/2nd grade team members started sharing photos of her children.  She says, "And this is my baby."  At this point, I was neatly tucked into an impossible to escape seating arrangement.  My eyes welled with tears as I fought to control all of that raw emotion that was on the cusp of erupting from my very soul.  I wanted to pull up the picture of my baby...my Cora..and in a very matter of fact way state, "Hey!  This is my baby.  This is Coraline.  She passed away last year at the age of 4." 

This isn't the picture I had with my FB status, but you get the idea.

So now that it is the weekend, I am carefully repacking all of that raw emotion.  I'm folding it neatly, creating crisp folds, and putting a note on it that says, "Last taken out on..."

In reality, I miss this face.  I miss this kid.  I miss her personality.  What would she be like now?  Would she be excited about kindergarten??

Oh sweet child...you are still loved.  We all love you and miss you...daily.