In my quiet moments of reflection, when I am left alone to my thoughts and my writing, when my husband and son are off somewhere, whether at soccer practice or running an errand, it is then that my thoughts wander to my Zia and I often light a candle, as I have done just moments ago.
I wonder then what it would be like to mother Zia beyond this, beyond thsi deep sadness and the loneliness. I wonder what she would have been like as a baby of almost nine months, what would she like to eat or play with. Would she like the outdoors and the sunshine as her brother did. Would she be crawling and sitting up now. Would she cry alot or laugh in loud gurgles.
I wonder these things and the tears come and they fall slowly down my cheeks and they seep into my very soul. The anger comes too, in waves and in fits, anger for the time that was stolen from me, precious time with my child. I am angry for the years that I will never have and I am devastated that everyday I have to move a day away from the only time I ever had with her.
It is in these moments when I wonder what the real meaning of life is, what purpose is it to live and lose those you love so tragically