I've been asked about my blog name.
Tre Libellule means Three Dragonflies in Italian.
That is what I see my babies as now.
When I finally came home from the hospital and stepped out of the car, I saw or I thought I saw dragonflies diving and soaring around the garden. I might have just been imagining things. I don't know. You don't often find dragonflies in January even if you live in an area with very mild winters like I do.
Since then, I have thought of my babies as tiny dragonflies. Beautiful. Delicate. Graceful.
I learned since then that a lot of different cultures have similar thoughts about dragonflies. Some feel like they are the souls of departed children. Others just see them as a representation of the fragility of life.
I now have a small collection of dragonfly things I keep around my house in memory of the boys. I have some pieces of jewelry as well.
Some online friends chipped in and gave me a blue topaz dragonfly pendant. The blue topaz is the birthstone for December, the month that I lost my babies.
My things are not all that elaborate. I like that I can look at something as mundane as my purse hook next to the front door and see three dragonflies.
I look above my kitchen sink at a wind chime I found at a craft store that just so happened to have three blue dragonflies as part of the design.
My husband found me a suncatcher that has three dragonflies darting above a pond of waterlilies.
These symbols are subtle and if you didn't know what they meant to me, you wouldn't imagine them to be a memorial to my lost children. I can maintain a certain amount of privacy regarding my grief.
I like that.
In my next post I will show some pictures of my dragonfly collection