To my sweet girl.... I knew you were my girl at the 20 week ultrasound. December 4, 2006 to be exact. On that cold, dark evening Daddy and I went to the appointment after work. I remember the tech so clearly telling us it was you...our sweet pea. Little did I know who you would truly … Continue reading 10 years
A friend's child may be getting a fatal diagnosis today. I have been through death but I'm still processing this one. And finding perspective and hoping you do too.
You stepped up...again. You didn't forget and with you I wouldn't be surviving.
Signs. Signs to know she is here, listening, loving and wrapping her arms around me.
The waves of grief hit. And hit hard. But I'm thankful.
I've had this in draft for almost 2 months wondering if I should post. I read a quote that resonated with me..."When you come out of a storm you won't be the same person that walked in...that's what a storm is about." So here I am relating to the door on a house. Some people like the color of my door and some don't. But it was my storm, my door - my house.
I say goodbye again. A reminder of my child now gone is that I no longer need my village.
The silence of grief is sometimes deafening. The reality of year two is painful.
Mother's day is a holiday like none other now that she is gone. I will forever miss her. All of her.
There are risks to a lot we do in life. Driving a car. Flying in a plane, or taking a particular medicine. The risks to losing Lydia were great and my head understood them but what I've come to realize my heart did not.