Loss for words

 By Missy Enaje

Courtesy Weyuna

I already know the depths of loss, for sorrow and grief are companions at my table that is the human experience. Here, joy and hope also exist, this is the full spectrum. Yet, I find myself at a loss for words. Me, the writer. So I come to this blank page with no idea what I will type except being honest to know my limitations. 

I want to celebrate and I want to wallow. I want to reflect and I want to dance. I want stillness but I also want movement. Ebbs and flows. I listen to the sounds of the wind blowing in the trees. Can you see me? I want to believe it's God, moving, showing me He is near.

I think of her and my world stops. I want to celebrate her. She is my everything, but now she is in heaven. I am happy and I am broken-hearted. I don't ask for anyone to fix me, but instead to witness with me how love holds no bounds.

One day I will figure it out. I won't hold myself to anyone's expectations and especially not society's upside down peripheries. Until then, I dream of her. 

Two days and I birthed her. Two days and she showed us what a miracle looks like. Our hero.