I was you July 30, 2013. I know what you are feeling, and I am so sorry for your loss. There are so many things that go through your mind when your child dies. Mainly, disbelief at first.
30 Thursdays have dawned since your untimely departure from this world. Since your love and presence was ripped from this physical world. A world where I had come to depend and thrive on the daily doses of hugs, kisses, smiles and sharing beautiful love.
We are not too far along this path when we start to realize our definition of the world is different from others. Words and actions have changed their meaning. There should be a dictionary for the grief stricken that is separate from the one made for the non-grieving. We have changed so much that the dictionary definition of our world no longer applies.
Most everyone that comes in our home is unaware of all the things I keep. In our back room that is now consumed with toys there is a large blue storage container. It is an unspoken understanding between my husband and I that this container stays there and is never to be tossed out. In the garage, on a shelf near our washer and dryer is a red, black and white striped prayer monkey sock.
A perfect stranger stole my daughter's life from her in a way that was the antithesis of how she lived in 2001. No one should have to bury a child but many of us do.
BEHIND A SMILE
Someone asked me...
Just today...
How I am doing
Since he went away
I said I'm okay...
That I'm doing just fine..
