I blame Sarah MacLachlan

(there is also a new post up at the private blog, for those who are interested/following that one AND a new post at the Earth Healing blog as well. A plethora of posts!)

Last night, Steve came out after watching the end of Charlotte's Web with the LGBB, his face puffy and red, cheeks wet from tears.

Assuming that he wasn't upset over the film's CGI graphics or anything, I gathered it was probably that adorable song in the closing credits by Sarah MacLachlan (I've written about it before, here).

I was right.

As I was preparing tea and setting it on the table at the time, I couldn't properly stop and ask him what was going on until we sat down to eat. When we did, I asked straight out, "So, what happened there?"

The combination of the beautiful lyrics - which he openly stated were reminding him of Ellanor - and the fact that his surviving daughter starting chiming in and singing them just broke his dam. Lots of dam-busting going on here this week!

Now, I have a bit of an inkling about this. And about just why it's proving to be a rather Ella-focused emotional week. First of all, I am now steeped in the part of the book where we are starting IVF. That means it's nearly time for Lolly to come slipping in. Which also means... I'm nearly finished. I have agonised for so many months over "when will this damn thing ever be done? When will I get to the end? I can't do it anymore!" And Steve has been there, coaxing and coaching, pushing and willing me to get through.

It is, rather, like a labour of love. A three year-long labour, granted, but still... the process is eerily similar. The fact that at the heart of it is our girl (well, both of them), and me being steeped in the emotions and uncertainty of that time - doing IVF - has surely been affecting Steve as well.

I mean, I know I have written on here before about the times he comes to me with tears in his eyes over Ella. But it really only happens a couple of times a year. This time, I was really surprised to notice that, as I am sort of between realities at the moment (between February 2005 and current day) and writing about what we were working through/towards then and am more readily familiar with what we were doing and how we were both feeling, the look on Steve's face was different as he let his guard down.

His tears were heavy with acceptance this time. Back then, he used to cry and his look at me would be full of desperation - "please help me rip this pain off me, I want it gone". Now, he has lived with it long enough to know. It never goes. It just rises and passes.

Haaaaaaah. Sorry, folks! Just writing how I'm seeing it. This is me this week. I can't be/write something I'm not. I see so many blogs around that are amusing and intelligent and laugh-out-loud funny (and thank God for them, otherwise I might not raise a giggle for weeks on end sometimes). I feel like I'm a morose stick in the mud, often, amongst these blogs of light and cynical wit. But.... such is life, writing honestly and not just "in good times." I couldn't do that, it wouldn't be honest of me. And what I have always aimed for with this blog is a true portrayal of my journey from grief to... wherever I am now. Working towards contentment, I suppose.

Please bear with me. This too shall surely pass. And don't call me Shirley.

Ah, bugger it. Here's the vid again. Watch it and don't tear up at that melody and those words. Dare you!