I finally opened the photos from Zoe’s tree planting. I hired a local photographer, a friend of my someday-sister-in-law (if my brother ever gets his act together and actually proposes before she wises up and dumps the doofus!) to come out and take pictures for us. It seemed a bit weird to hire someone, but I didn’t want to ask any of the guests to take them, plus I wanted everyone who was there to actually be in the photos. I’ve been super anxious to see them. The CD arrived a few days ago (no fault of the photographer’s…we needed an address first, hahaha) but the moment I saw it my excitement was replaced by another emotion. Not dread…not sadness…not depression. Anxiousness maybe? I can’t even put my finger on it. This was it: the final photographs.
It wasn’t just that it was the “end” of it all either. I wouldn’t say I’ve been avoiding thinking about Zoe, but I’ve been focused on so many other things at she hasn’t been at the forefront of my mind like she was the for the first two months after her death. And looking at the photos meant reliving it again. Confronting the thoughts I’ve continuously pushed away.
We went to the library in town for the first time today (this has something to do with Zoe, I promise!). I misread the schedule online so we got there just as story time was letting out. Being confronted with all those moms with multiple children all of varying ages brought everything rushing back. There were babies and toddlers everywhere. That and the teeny tiny 2 week old baby that was there. Tears sprung to my eyes watching the mom corral her two other children while breastfeeding the baby at the same time. That wouldn’t be me right now (Zoe would be 5 months on Thursday and on a rigid schedule by now 😉 ) but it SHOULD have been me 4 months ago. This was the first time I was in public with the kids in a child-centric setting and I was totally unprepared for its impact on me. What a surprise.
After my experience at the library this morning I decided I was done procrastinating looking at the pictures. It was time. And looking at them turned out not to be emotional for me at all. Granted that could’ve been due to the fact that I HATE Jeff’s laptop with a passion (seriously, I’m incapable of using anything that’s not a Mac anymore) so I spent the entire time muttering swear words under my breath instead of focusing on the photographs. But whatever the reason, I’ll take it. I smiled remembering how J crawled into the hole and walked all over Z’s ashes when I asked her to place the bear at the bottom of the tree. I remembered reading the poem that came with the butterflies and recalled how perfect it was for our situation (and wished my copy of it wasn’t packed away because I can’t remember exactly what it said). I shook my head remembering a couple of inappropriate comments made…like when one of the kids threw a shovelful of dirt in the hole and yelled, “Die, bear, die!!!!” while laughing maniacally. How we got started 20 minutes late because unsurprisingly one of the Sunday clan was running behind. How amazing Jeff’s pulled pork tasted and that it turned out to be the perfect amount of food. How I made Jeff wait until everyone was there to drop the tree into the hole, instead of doing that part earlier in the morning. How we told Tyler a 6 foot oak and instead he showed up with a 20 footer…about 20 minutes before the tree planting was supposed to begin. How creepy it sounded when I passed out the butterfly envelopes, hearing their legs/wings scratching at the paper, trying to get out. How the majority of the butterflies didn’t have use of their wings yet and plopped straight down to the ground when we released them so we had to be careful walking on the grass so as not to trample them. I was just happy that the majority of them were alive! It probably wouldn’t have been a good omen if all 30 butterflies were dead upon opening the envelopes…
But mostly I remembered how nice it all was. The weather was perfect. Everyone was able to make it, minus just a few people. We spent some great quality time with family and friends that we don’t get to see often enough. We were able put our baby girl to rest in a beautiful, peaceful way. There are a handful of times when Jeff comes up with a REALLY stellar idea, and this was one of them. I’m glad we have the tree to come back and visit every time we go home to see how much Zoe has grown. I’m glad we had to wait for a few months for the weather to warm up so we had time to come to terms with our grief. I’m glad I hired someone to take photos and that she had the brilliant idea to get a group shot at the end (although I do wish it would’ve occurred to me to get one of just the 4 of us too. And that I had taken a photo of just the kids by the tree before we left. Those would be great family photos to mark everyone’s growth as time goes by! Guess I’ll just have to start that tradition the next time we go home…). I’m glad that all of our friends and family were able to participate in burying the tree, her legacy. I’m glad we did this.
My favorite moment of all was when I asked J if there was anything she would like to tell Zoe after her ashes were spread. She looked at me and said, “No. I talk to Zoe a lot at night before I go to sleep. I tell her all kinds of things then.”