I am breathing that damn song every moment of every day

I cannot get the last episode of Six Feet Under out of my head. Sia's beautiful voice haunts me, and in my mind she's been singing the soundtrack of the past three days of my life. I lie in bed at night, desperate to sleep, and instead I see the flash forward montage playing in my head. When I wake in the morning it's still there.

I scoured the internet for that song so that I could listen to it, over and over and over again, while I wait for the CD to arrive.

I realize that I haven't written much about Adelyn lately. She's becoming such a big girl. I'm so glad that I remember the morning when she fell asleep nursing, curled up beside me in bed, as I sat frozen with wonder, knowing that this would probably be the last time that I would feel her breathing deeply beside me. What a gift that I knew at that moment to cherish that snapshot of my baby girl. She still nurses in the morning, more and more fleeting with each passing day, frustrated that I don't dole out gulpfuls like her handled Dora sippy cup. She can say "Dora" now, and I know that by the time we return rom our beach vacation, I will likely just carry her downstairs to drink from her cup, my milk dried up, our cuddling time over.

She is far too busy running now, exploring the world around her on her own two feet. I am amazed at what she can do - she feeds Bella's baby dolls their bottles, and the girls love to hold afternoon tea rituals with Bella's princess tea set. Bella just didn't have toys like that when she was one year old, so her play was so much more baby-like, though I suppose there was more playing with Riley's trucks and cars than your typical first-born girl might do.

I recall being somewhat disappointed in finding out that Adelyn was a girl. I nver had a sister, so I mourned more for Riley's loss in not having a brother than I would have for Bella. Watching them play together now is a reminder that things do happen for a reason. They are already friends. When Bella isn't here, Adelyn toddles around the house calling her name, wandering from her room, to Riley's to the back door, which she tries to open by turning the doorknob. I am in awe of this mystery of sisterhood finally unfolding in front of my eyes.

I've thought alot about Six Feet Under, and the idea of people's deaths being a part of life, flashing before your eyes just as I can see Adelyn curled up sleeping against me that last morning. We recently went to a huge family reunion on Vincent's side of the family, and it struck me that every single one of those people in attendance will have a funeral. Will I be there? For some, but not all.

Will my children mourn beside my coffin, or will I by theirs? The former I hope. Dear God, I hope so.

It's hard enough to believe that someday my life will be filled wih homework and soccer games and ballet classes. But to imagine my children's deaths? The rest of my family's moving on from this world? I think it's the reason that the Six Feet Under finale has haunted me so these past few days.

I adore the children and want so much to be a beter, kinder mother to them. I was able to play Monopoly Jr. with Riley and some older kids in the neighborhood the other night. He won - beginner's luck I guess - and I thought to myself, "My boy is becoming a boy now", the kind that can beam at the prospect of owning a monopoly, even in lemonade stands. He learned to peel potatoes the other day. He can open his own bananas. Make his own bed. Ride a scooter, and when he concentrates, he can ride a bike without training wheels.

But still, I am so cranky these days. The addition is going nowhere, Bella is still in diapers, the house is a disaster and I'm having post-PMS PMS.

But that song - that song brings it home to me that the time to live is now. So I don't mind it playing it's soundtrack in my mind - it's not Feliz Navidad, or Elmo's World, but rather, a reminder that death is a part of life, and it will find us all eventually. I'd like to be ready for it when it comes.