A Year Without Her

A year.  October 3, 2015.

How can it be a year already? How has it been over a year since I've hugged her or told her I love her?

I miss her laugh. I miss her voice. I miss her tight hugs & kisses on my cheek.

I wonder some days if it'll ever get easier or if I'll be able to think about her without my heart breaking.

I've had my hands full this past year so I haven't had time to dwell in my sadness & grief but there are times when it stops me in my tracks. I hope some day that goes away & I just remember happier days with her.

I wish that when I think of her that I could see her as she was before cancer, before tubes & oxygen but that's what is in the fore front of my mind & I hate that. I want to remember her happy & healthy, full of spunkiness, love & laughter. That's who she really was.

I know she's with me when I need her, I've felt her with me. I hope every day that my boy has some of her qualities - that somehow there's truth to someone has to leave this world to make room for new life. That maybe just maybe the new life inherits some of the goodness from the person who left.  It sounds crazy, I know, but it gives me something to hold on to. I need that right now.

I look forward to the day when an unexpected picture of her or mention of her name doesn't put a lump in my throat.  For now though, I let the tears flow when they need to because she was too important not to just let myself feel that emptiness when it hits me.

I, also, look forward to the day when I have some closure.  It all happened so quickly at the end, I was too pregnant to anyone to think it was safe for me to be there. Then I had a baby & couldn't be at the funeral, that still just hurts my heart.  It makes it hard to feel real. I had no formal goodbye. Hopefully one day I can reconcile that with myself.

A month of missing you

A month... 30ish days.

I've thought about her a lot & also, not at all. Those are my two gears for grieving while being a mom to a newborn.

I allow my grief to consume me for a very short spurt, then I shut it off. It's the only way I know how to deal with it. I don't have the time to be as sad as I really want to allow myself to be. I don't have time for grief - I have a 4 week old son & a 5.5 yr old spitfire little girl to look after.

Sometimes she comes into my thoughts & I can't imagine that this is anything more than a bad dream. It doesn't feel real to me. I have no closure.

No one knows how hard it was for me to be in the hospital with my brand new baby while my family was saying their final goodbyes to her. I wanted to be there to say goodbye, to tell her I love her, to tell anyone who was there how special she was.

It just doesn't feel real to me because I was so removed from everything while experiencing such joy from Jamie's birth. It was the hardest most bittersweet week, I wanted so badly to be in two places at once.

How can it be a month already? It feels like it was just yesterday that I opened my door, saw Scott there...and knew.  Wasn't it just yesterday?

I think about her laugh a lot. I don't ever want to forget it. It was one of a kind, like her.

I look forward to the day when it hurts a bit less but until then, I'll use my two gears. Time to turn it off for now but I love you, Aunt Donna.