Thursday, December 2, 2010

Sunshine

I despise the commercialization of movies.  I don't like sitting through fifteen minutes of commercials before the previews start, but I do like arriving early and settling in.  I always bring a book when I go to the movies by myself so I can get there early and ignore the commercials.  Yesterday I was reading my book when I heard the words to "You Are My Sunshine" start.  When I hear that song now I think of Missy and her sweet boy so I lowered my book and looked up.  There on the screen was a new car commercial (I refuse to say which company it was for).  The commercial was a montage of mamas and newborns, and a few proud papas too, standing next to cars both old and new.  The tag line: "As long as there are babies there will be ___ to bring them home."  I sat there with tears in my eyes, my book in my left hand, my right hand clutching a bag of popcorn.  What about all of the babies who don't come home?  What about those of us who drive home with an empty car seat and broken hearts?

Yesterday evening I sat on the couch and cried like I did when she first died.  I have no idea why, but I often talk when I cry (I tend to talk whenever I'm in an uncomfortable or unhappy situation.  The apprentice at Charlotte's birth told me she has never heard someone talk as much as I did during labor) and last night was no exception.  I blathered on and on while huge waves of tears cascaded down my face.  I eventually stopped crying and talking long enough to eat dinner and watch a show online with the husband.  The show featured the song "Ain't No Sunshine."  The beginning of that song sends shivers up my spine.  "You Are My Sunshine" just breaks my heart.  Have you ever listened to the lyrics?  This bit always makes me cry:

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms 
But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken 
So I hung my head and I cried 

 I couldn't sleep last night (I can't sleep most nights) so I stared at the ceiling and thought about my sunshine and all of the mamas who are missing little rays of light and laughter.  Then I started thinking about birth and Christmas and how, for me, Christmas is a celebration of birth, and maybe that's why this time of year is so difficult for me.  I never had the chance to celebrate her peaceful birth.  And then I thought about how the morning she was born the birthing center was surrounded by fog, but then it lifted, and as she left this Earth the sun was shining.  It rained for weeks after she died.  It was like the sky, the earth, and nature herself mourned for me and my sunshine.

12 comments:

  1. My best friend is like you when she's unhappy or uncomfortable you can't shut her up, sometimes I think its better than silence.

    I hope you are at least feeling a little bit better now.

    I have only recently stumbled over your blog and Charlotte's story brought a tear to my eyes, I really wish you all the best

    ReplyDelete
  2. Oh Angela, I can't imagine seeing that car commercial and not dissolving into tears. Just reading your summary of it crushes me. The empty carseat. So haunting, still. Driving home from the hospital with the empty carseat is one of those memories that will always haunt me, always make me so sad. (Kind of a funny addendum to that story, though, we actually got pulled over by the cops, for having a busted tail light, as we left the hospital parking lot. Needless to say we burst into tears and explained and they looked in the back and saw the empty carseat and they let us go.)

    How I wish our sunshines were with us.

    Sending love...

    ReplyDelete
  3. that's the song we re-wrote for you ;) its done. sending it now.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I just have a whole new appreciation for that song now. That lyric is kind of eerie and will be running through my head now,

    We just aren't safe anywhere, not even at a movie theatre.

    I hope that tonight is a better one for you. It's always a little shocking when the pain comes back full force, just as bad as it was in the early days.

    xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  5. Angela,

    I am very glad I've not seen that commercial, I would have fallen apart too - I have been following Missy's blog and have a new appreciation for 'You are my Sunshine'. I feel I'm sensitised to lyrics and pay attention to them all now, as everything is shaded in new meaning without my daughter.
    Reading about the empty car seat, brought it all back - I sometimes wonder how I managed to breathe at that point...

    I've not read your back posts yet, I just wanted you to know that I am and that your Charlotte is beautiful - she is well remembered here.

    Much love to you Angela, for the tough days ahead

    ReplyDelete
  6. Angela-

    I have read your entire blog. I look for your posts everyday. Your words are so moving and articulate.

    I recently heard this analogy from a mama who lost one daughter to cancer and another to murder: "Losing a child is like walking around with shards of glass inside you, every time you move it hurts. Eventually you learn how to move so it doesn't hurt so much but the shards of glass are always there."

    My heart is with you each and every day. Your words are so enlightening. Thank you for being brave enough to share your story and your process. I hope you do get it published.

    -Oni
    Tempe, AZ

    ReplyDelete
  7. When I first saw that commercial I almost fell off the couch and then I wanted to smash the television. I felt violated even though it's not my song, but it will always and forever be his song. Thank you for sharing it. That verse in particular haunts my mind often.

    ReplyDelete
  8. That song used to remind me of my grandma. She used to sing it all the time and because of that my mother would sing it all the time to me and my siblings. The other day I was singing it to my 3 month old little baby and I got to the second verse and I cried.

    I cried for all of the mommies I have read about whose lives are haunted by these lyrics because they resonate truth to them. I cried to imagine my life where my little baby was suddenly taken away from me.

    Heartbreaking. In every sense of the word.

    ReplyDelete
  9. I saw that commercial at the movies too. The other one that gets me is the latest holiday Pampers commercial with a bunch of babies sleeping and then it says Peace on Earth. It's not like I don't want others to be happy when they have babies. It just feels like the whole world wants to forget us, push us away, until we're happy again. I feel like no one understands that not all babies come home. I guess I didn't once upon a time but now I just wish we could all be a little more open.

    ReplyDelete
  10. I've never seen the commercial (thankfully). I also hate those stupid commercials in front of movies. I also hate billboards and commercials on t.v. and fliers on my car...

    Everyone is trying to sell something.

    ReplyDelete
  11. that's the song we re-wrote for you ;) its done. sending it now.

    ReplyDelete
  12. Oh Angela, I can't imagine seeing that car commercial and not dissolving into tears. Just reading your summary of it crushes me. The empty carseat. So haunting, still. Driving home from the hospital with the empty carseat is one of those memories that will always haunt me, always make me so sad. (Kind of a funny addendum to that story, though, we actually got pulled over by the cops, for having a busted tail light, as we left the hospital parking lot. Needless to say we burst into tears and explained and they looked in the back and saw the empty carseat and they let us go.)

    How I wish our sunshines were with us.

    Sending love...

    ReplyDelete

thank you!

LinkWithin

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...
 
Design by Small Bird Studios | All Rights Reserved