Our trip to San Diego proved to be helpful to our souls. On Friday, King and I set out with Macky, JoAnn, and Baby Noah. They are like family to us. I'm calling them my unofficial cousins. That night, Leo and Judy joined us--again, our dear friends.
In the evening, King and I sent up balloons with fun sticker faces on them. (We bought the helium tank at Party City because we figured this isn't the last time that we'll be sending up a note) Later, as I thought about it the faces were pretty appropriate because King and I are kinda that way...we're both pretty laid back and can be silly. It was like giving Malaya a chance to get to know us.
King made the blue balloon and I made the purple one. My balloon was kinda droopy, so we attached a yellow one to be in the middle so we'd know it would fly.
It turned out to be quite symbolic in that the yellow one was the higher flying balloon. It seemed as if it was leading the other two up to the sky. King said as we were walking away from the beach, that the yellow balloon was like Jesus, the center of our relationship. He was leading the way, making sure our love and our notes get sent up to Heaven.
On Saturday, Arnel (a long time friend) and King's cousins, Mark and Dennis, joined us. We went to crowded Mission Beach and I got sunburned.
When we went back to our hotel, I took a nap and when I woke up I decided to walk along the beach by myself. It was good to be outside, but then I realized that the sand reminded me of my baby. The texture of the sand was pretty fine, and there were a lot of small pieces of broken white shells mixed in. It reminded me of her ashes and her little pieces of bone. It was like walking on a ground so sacred...On Sunday, King and I slept in and then we all had lunch in Little Italy. Afterward, we picked up some yummyness at Extraordinary Desserts...ooo-la-la!
Overall, our trip to San Diego was actually quite fun and filled with much laughter.
Yesterday, however, I had one of the hardest days since Malaya died. My good friend and King's cousin just gave birth within five days of each other. Part of me rejoices for brand new lives and part of me sorrows because of Malaya's death. When we were all pregnant we all looked forward to having our kids grow up with each other...but now, that's just not gonna happen.The absoluteness of Malaya's death was made so real by the birth of these two boys. My baby really is gone. I was so sad at the contrast of the utter joy that they are experiencing after giving birth versus the stings and punches of sorrow that King and I have been feeling. I cried and cried throughout the whole day, King held me when he got home from work. And then we went to the gym and I let the spinning class be a way to get out my frustrations. I felt better, but I think I'm coming down with something. I couldn't sleep til 3:30am and even afterward I got up a few times. I feel so icky... Ay-yay-yay.
What a ride of ups and downs (and middles), highs and lows (and in-betweens), joys and sorrows (and just being), laughter and tears (and sitting and thinking). What can I do but embrace every moment?
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