Catching up on things

I have been doing that hermit crab thing where I retreat into my shell and do less communicating because communication takes energy and I don’t have enough to spare. Especially since most of the things I want to say are emotive, and identifying and turning emotions into words is—welp, it’s a lot.

So, anyway.

I was a great aunt for a week. My niece gave birth on a Sunday, earlier than planned because pregnancy is complicated and dangerous more often than people want to think about. My great nephew Felix fought hard for a week, with the help of fantastic medical tema and with constant, loving support, but he died on the following Sunday.

He was a handsome wee boy, and I say that as someone who thinks babies mostly look like fascinating alien creatures. He was a fighter. That’s about all I know about him.

I wish I’d had a chance to hold him and admire him in person, to feed him stinky baby food and give his mom a break to do non-mom things. I wish I’d had a chance to shop for the kinds of gifts aunties can get away with giving their niblings.

I wish I’d had the chance to see him grow up.

My heart breaks for my niece and her husband, who were so eager to welcome their child, and who will be the best possible parents in the world if they get a chance. I cannot begin to imagine their grief, and I am at a loss as to how I can help and support them, other than All The Usual Condolence Rituals.

Life goes on. But if time is a river, sometimes it flows fast and fatal between rocky cliffs of pain, over a bottomless abyss of sadness, creating a whirlpool that is hard to escape. This is that kind of time.