Fallout

Lola's passing (which is not how it was meant to be, God) has left me conflicted. I am evaluating and realigining myself with entities around me. More than that, my relationship with myself is under fire.

I may or may not admit it, but I know what my strengths and weaknesses are. I also know my vices and what ticks me off. If I were some sanyasi, or trying to become a refined individual, I might even have made the effort to become a better person. I am not.

But I was not prepared to disintegrate or devolve into a bitter person. I am not a jealous person, even though I am a jealous person. You get a big car, I might want a ride but I won't think of getting a bigger car unless I need it.

But, if you get a bigger piece of the chocolate cake, I might say 'Darn it!! Why do I always get the smaller piece?' and actually not think bad about thinking like that. I just don't don't don't want to spread my jealousy to anything more than that piece of cake.

During a certain camp, I managed to drop my breakfast on the ground. There were no more sweet buns remaining and so I got none. All my life since that day, every time I have had a sweet bun, I am always reminded of the sheer disappointment I felt that day and it is as if I am still trying to compensate for the bun that came on my plate but not my mouth. I just don't know where I am going with this but I see a pattern in my personality here. The future holds my further trysts with the golden fertility that I have, but I will crave for Lola always.

I had notions. I had plans.

It was not the big things, but rather the smaller details that now hurt me. We do not dress a newborn in new clothes. Clothes borrowed or handed down are used. No shopping is done for an infant till it is born, and in the 'baby shower' for the pregnant lady, the gifts are for the woman rather than the new individual about to arrive.

I got these really smart clothes from a SIL and I was hung on a certain dress and cap and all for Kaiser/Lola. With all the gifted clothes, I also did some shopping of my own for the little one I was hoping to bring to my world. If Lola would have been able to not get into the NICU from the nursery, she would have worn those things I wanted. Instead all I got from the hospital which was hers was this tiny yellow top she wore.

I look at the top and I still cry. I don't know what went wrong. Today so many people complete their shopping before the baby comes, and yet nothing wrong happens.

With whatever happened, the fact that I am taken aback is the given, but what kills me more is that it allows people to say what is asked to not be done before and I did.

My relationship with Birdman has turned x notches warmer. He has turned more attentive and attuned to me. It is as if the grief has brought us closer. I did not want Lola's going away to have been the cement.

She tied us in ribbons and left.

We have conversations that I seem to forget in their literal wording, but it always makes me feel that he cares. I am still not able to wrest out answers to more than a few questions from him. The reason being he snaps shut after a while, or gets irritated over why I keep hovering again and again on certain points. The detail that appears small to him, is not small to me. It completes a picture that I am so desperately trying to make.