I want her back

I finally bought a new pair of running shoes. Saucony Progrid Triumph 6 (if you really care). I ran competitively throughout college (and Sauconys were my shoe of choice), even in the National Cross Country meet (not individually -- I couldn't allow you to go along with my delusion of grandeur). After college, I'd run once in a while. Off and on. I ran one marathon and a lot of shorter races with my husband, who is not-so-much-a-runner. He's a golfer.

I really just needed a new pair of 'exercise' shoes. Not only were my running shoes too old to use for any purpose beyond gardening, my dog ate them. In the event I want to relieve my husband of the dog walking duties (yes, I see the irony), my sandals don't always cut it. Because general 'exercise' shoes hurt if I ever wish to run, I opted for actual running shoes. Even if I'm walking.

So the other night, I gave the new shoes a trial 'run.' I intended to mostly walk, but I hoped to perhaps try a jog/walk. The thing is, my running mind doesn't know jog. It knows walk. It knows run. It knows sprint (I think it still knows sprint). Don't get me wrong - it's not as if my body is running like it did in college. But, the idea of taking it easy really isn't on my running mind's radar. So while it may look to you as if I'm jogging, my running mind thinks it's competing for Gold. My body wants the running mind to chill out, but the running mind just isn't wired like that. I ended up with mostly a walk anyway because my husband's iPhone ear buds (which I borrowed for my jog/run/walk) were apparently too large for my ears and kept annoyingly falling out when I attempted any 'bouncy' movement. But, I digress.

We live near a lake. Not a nice, we-should-build-a-house-on-that-someday kind of lake. While my state houses literally thousands of natural lakes, this county does not. Not even one. But we do have a large body of water that looks like a lake, but is really just a huge Canada goose bathtub. People walk around that thing like it's the only thing going for this town. I like the lake. Especially since the city planted these huge weed-looking native plants that supposedly keep the goose shit from spilling onto the paths. I was skeptical at first, but I must admit it seems to work.

I cannot recall the last time I walked around the lake. It just isn't my natural inclination since losing E. I walk part of the lake before veering off the path and making a beeline for the cemetery. I literally feel pulled to the cemetery. It's not a conscious decision to go there. I rarely go there when I drive. But when I walk, the cemetery is where I find myself.

Perhaps a half mile away from the cemetery, my tears started to silently fall. By the time I reached the cemetery gates, I was crying out loud. I considered visiting a grave I recently learned about because it's a family like mine, where the baby was stillborn and the parents live. The baby is buried in a plot where the parents will one day join the baby. Just like we hope to do when we move E out of the 'baby' area. But, the pull brought me to E's grave.

E's grave is unmarked. I used to know its location because I had stuck into the ground the stems of three roses my three living children gave me for Mother's Day. The stems are now gone, but I have a general idea where E is buried. I tell myself it doesn't really matter anyway because it's not E. Her spirit is not buried. Just her physical body. But the thing is, I want that physical body. I want to hold E. I want to nurse her. I want to snuggle her. I want to feel her skin and the weight of her body. I want to feel her downy soft hair and that little soft spot on her head.

Upon reaching E's grave, I fell to the ground and sobbed. The kind of guttural heart wrenching sobs I cried the day I delivered E. "Why? Why are you gone? What did I do? Is it Karma? Is it because I thought evil thoughts days, months, or even years before you died? I don't see how this can get better, E. I still see only one solution. For you to live. That's it. There is no other way. I'm a horrible mother to your siblings. My patience is non-existent. I'm a horrible wife. I need you E. I know it's ridiculous to expect you, my baby, to help me. But, I know you are stronger than I. Please help me." I went on like this for quite a while. I was at the cemetery for so long, I thought I'd need to call my husband to come get me. It was harder leaving E that evening than it was the evening they took her away from me at the hospital. The evening they took her after I held her for such a short time. I.want.her.back.