Turned out it was a more simple health concern but I have to note the inner gesture because I want to continue explaining to the world that the natural position of a mother's heart is to long for the wellbeing and long lives of her children. To those who don't understand why a mother cannot stop grieving the loss of her child, no matter how well she returns to productive life, I need you to understand that occasionally feeling the passionate desire to be with your Dearly Departed is not the wish of a deranged or maladjusted person; it is simply the heart-call of a grieving mother.
By the time I succumbed to asking for medical care and was given an antibiotic, I had not eaten in three days from nausea and had a fever of nearly 102. I think this is in part an after-effect of grief as well: staying busy, staying busy, staying busy.
But the body will always call you back home, and in that sickness, one night in my delirium around three in the morning, I climbed in the bath to try to soothe my aching bones. In that dark nothingness, I felt the old grief again.
I need you to understand how the waves of grief return, how they slather themselves over my body when I am breaking at the stoplight, when I am pouring water for tea, when I am paying the grocery bill. If it were possible to make those waves never return by wishing them away, they would have been gone long, long ago. Believe me.
And so in the bathtub in the warmth of the water, like a fetus, so safe, I felt my belly relax, and then the grief came hard and fast, and instantly I felt the intense need to connect with Corey. Hundreds of moments like this in the past fifteen months have taught me to first make a personal intention to clear away the sticky, slimy part of grief; I wanted to speak to her in a way that wasn't laden with my pain.
Imaginally, I extracted that heavy layer of pain and I heard myself say inside: Corey, where are you?
And I heard clear as a bell and with that very matter-of-fact Corey voice: "I'm right here, Mom."
Those four words!
I'm right here, Mom.
Can it possibly be true under God's beautiful heaven that I could hear my daughter? Is it possible that if I am clear enough I could communicate with her from time to time? Is she near? I want to be the person who can hear my daughter, wherever she is.