If my daughter had lived, she would be 12 years old. She would be dealing with the challenges of middle school girls, heading fast into her teenage years, figuring out who she is as a young person, and, if she was anything like her mother, determined to do everything her way.
At least, that’s where I imagine she would be.
I don’t know, because she isn’t 12 years old now. Grace remains forever my tiny baby, born still, gone before she ever took a breath. Some days, I imagine the girl she might be now, all the while knowing that I will never really know. It is an ache that has not fully eased over the 12 years since she died.
When I talk of this ache and this longing to know who she might have been, I almost always hear some version of “perhaps it’s time you moved on” or “don’t you think you need to let go of this?” Some times people say the words out loud (or write them) to me. Others just have it written on their faces and speak it in silence in their head. In general, I find that people’s intentions are good. They don’t want to see me hurting anymore. They don’t want to see me sad. What they don’t realize is that hurt and sadness aren’t the worst things in life.
My answer to these folks is always the same. I have moved on. I am letting go. I will continue to move on and to let go every day of my life.
The people who want me to “move on” and I, well, we just have different ideas of what moving on and letting go actually mean. To them, it means that I forget. It means I stop missing her and stop talking about her and forget the absence of her in my life. Perhaps it would be easier if I could live my life in that way. Maybe I should want that.
But I don’t want that. I don’t want to forget about her life. I don’t want to stop talking about her or to forget about her. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. She is as much a part of my life and me as I am to my mother and my mother’s life. I don’t need to be rescued from my hurt or sadness. What I need is to remember her and love her.
Besides, moving on isn’t about forgetting. In my experience, moving on is more about learning how to live while grieving. I miss my daughter every day. I wonder who she might have been and who I might have become as a mother to a living child. I picture her face and try to imagine the sound of her laugh. I light a candle and eat a cupcake on her birthday. I send someone yellow daisies in her honor each year on her birthday.
She is very much a significant part of my life, and she is no longer all of my life. Even as I miss her, I laugh a lot. I am fulfilled and passionate and ambitious about my work. I have fun and play and enjoy life with my friends and family. I live and love my beautiful, full, happy, and creative life.
Moving on isn’t about choosing an either/or life. It isn’t about missing her or being happy. It’s not about grieving or living. It’s not about moving on or mourning. It’s about learning to live a both/and life. I can live a great life and still grieve for my daughter. I can love my life and still miss the one that might have been. I can be happy and still feel sad sometimes. I can be grateful for the beautiful life I have and ache for Grace’s absence in it.
This is what moving on looks like. This is what it means to let go. This is what it means to live after loss. I am living while grieving. I am living a both/and life. I am learning to let that be enough.
Emily works hard to increase education and improve care for bereaved mothers with medical professionals and other counselors. She also works with clients individually to provide support for grieving mothers and fathers. She writes and educates through her website, Emily Long: Archaeologist of the Living.
- I Should Know Them Now - May 29, 2017
- Stolen Memories - March 8, 2017
- Receiving Support - October 14, 2016
I just recently lost my baby girl Mya. And this has been the hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure.
It’s only been two weeks, and I don’t know if I will ever be able to “ move on ” all i do is cry there has been a few times where I smiled and laughed … And felt guilty… How can I have a smile on my face when I’ve lost the only thing I ever wanted?
I understand,my youngest son took his own life on May 23 of this year,It is a shattering experience,he was a firefighter/paramedic and union leader ,A father of six,Loved by so many,No one saw it coming.at 43 Years old,He still had so much life left but for reasons we don’t understand ,he left .I also have smiled and laughed and also felt guilty but I know how much he loved to hear all of us laughing and his own laugh was a hysterical whole body laugh and since Laughter is a gift I will express that gift as often as possible until I see him again.
A clear and evocative article, thank you for sharing. I send much love to you all xx
My son was born still in September 2017. He was our first and only as it’s too dangerous to have anymore. I don’t know how to move forward while grieving. I don’t enjoy life or find happiness in much. I feel like an outsider looking in. There is no how to book for where I find myself right now.
((hugs)) Elyse. It takes time to find your happiness again but you can do it. It helped me to lower the pressure and just look for little moments; savor a good chocolate, stop to admire a beautiful sunset. Over time, those little moments will start to add up.
From one Emily who lost a Grace to another, thank you. Your words touched my heart. I am so thrilled to have come across this community. I’ve felt lost and isolated for so long. Our daughter Grace would have been 6. I think about her all the time, and what we could have had. “Moving on isn’t about forgetting.” Such a powerful truth.
Oh, I love that you have a Grace as well. I’m so glad you found us.
Beautifully written article! It’s so hard for friends and family to understand that I can grieve the loss of my 3 much loved and wanted babies while also leading a full and happy life. It’s so frustrating that people think I wallow in the sadness and loss…I will always talk about my babies and my love for them- that doesn’t mean I can’t be joyful too!
Yes, it’s unfortunate that so many have such trouble understanding we can have capacity for both. xo
It’s impossible to forget, no matter how hard you try. How could I forget three perfect children, and why would I want to? If could make it all be like it was before, well, sure, that would be good. But of course I can’t. Of course I can’t. So yes, living whilst grieving is exactly what we do.
Of course you can’t. Much love.
Well said. I am trying to figure out the right balance, still, and how to keep my son in my life in a healthy way. But moving on by forgetting about him is simply not an option.
I think finding that balance is a life-long process. Much love to you.
Thanks for sharing. I hate that people don’t understand that you can “move on” and still be sad.
<3
Emily you have wrote the exact words i am feeling. I feel i am living a happy life and still grieving for my daughter Sofie. I want to allways talk of her and remember her allways. Thank you so much for your words of encouragment and understanding of life after loss.
You are so welcome. I love the name Sofie!