Molly became obsessed with "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" today. It's the music to a game she found for her Kindle, and she played it until my heart broke into tiny, bloody pieces and I had to tell her to stop. It was one of mom's favorites- she was obsessed with The Wizard of Oz. I still can't watch it. Shane made the mistake early in our marriage of turning it on when whatever network aired it, and then I crumpled like tissue and he had to put me back together.
The sweet, unendurable joy my baby girl gets from this song is so precious. And if I live in my brain, the fact that she's fallen in love with her grandma's song is beautiful. But right now, I'm living in my heart and I'm so sad and empty I feel I should collapse inward.
Maybe grief is a black hole but behind a magic door with keys and if you protect your keys it is OK it is just an idea of a hole and time exists and life is normal. When someone accidentally turns the key, all the whole decade since the death folds into yesterday and it's real and right here.
I had to be bigger than sad, so I downloaded Tori Amos' version and added it to her bedtime playlist- the Birdy Shuffle. I remembered mom hating on Tori for being too sugary and I smiled because Molly is on my side. Her favorite is Daisy Dead Petals. And then it's normal [key locks the door but light seeps through cracks] and we're just listening to nursery rhymes and fangirl stuff and Buffy rocks and Captain Hammer is Mommy's boyfriend but inside my chest the gravity and pressure are still pulling me apart.