The day after Kitty’s 5th birthday was my birthday. It was also the day that she died.
The morning that Kitty’s body was found beside her family’s boat, my body went… numb. Waves of grief wash up , filled me and spilled out.
Then I made two pots of soup, baked two loaves of bread and made a double batch of cookies. It was clearly a bit neurotic of me. But I needed to do something.
As I sat down to a bowl of soup and a piece of bread, I realized I had made the soup for her, for them, but also for me. After a great sorrow, we need nourishment.
I think of the half-drawn art that Kitty must have left, the pockets of play tucked away in corners. And as I folded Gabrielle’s laundry, the grief overwhelmed again. Kitty’s clothes that Cidnie had generously sent up to us months ago.
Once I joined this tribe of women, when I moved onto a boat in a very pregnant state, I did not know we would laugh together, cry together, bleed together. I didn’t know these friendships would be life-shaping. But they are.
Here are some words from other friends as we process the hole left behind. A giant gaping hole fringed in sparkles, ribbon, bubbles and balloons. All the bits left over from a great birthday party.