dirt roads

The road out here is dirt, and stones, and pebbles. It is surrounded by fields that go to the horizon and trees that curve into tunnels. The road leads to butterflies. They swirl around you like beautiful petals in the wind as they frolic in the wild flowers that decorate the field. The road leads to butterflies but nowhere really. I walk the road for exercise with my sister-in-law, we talk while we walk, it's better company than tears. I walk with Gracie to get her in for a nap. The butterflies swirl, I stop and cry. It's quiet. No one sees my tears but the butterflies. Derek knows without asking. He hugs me and tells me it's ok. I love him. I can't help the tears, or the ache. I have said that Gabbie appears to me as butterflies and if that's so, then she is all around me. I am obsessed with butterflies now. God, I miss her little face. Isn't it supposed to get easier, this longing to hold this baby that I birthed but do not have? This road I travel to find her one day is not paved. It is not easy. It is filled with potholes and stones, and when it rains it's painstakingly muddy and tiring to travel. It may be surrounded in butterflies but it's hard to enjoy their beauty when they're a substitute for something much more beautiful.
It is summertime now and summertime means parties. It seems as though everyone we know has babies. I love babies. They aren't my baby. Can I bring myself to go to parties were babies surround them in love and I have to make do with butterflies?