2-18-18

I’ve never been great with consistency, and this blog is no different. While it’s not that I haven’t thought about writing, it’s just that I’m not sure how to share where my head and heart are at these days. What I do know is that how I feel today is not all that different from the way I felt a year ago. These cold, gray months feel like time to sit in the heaviness of my grief. It’s not something I want or enjoy, but where I seem to end up all the same. Today, I am sharing a journal entry from a little less than a year ago… it holds just as much truth today as any original thoughts I could put on this page.

My love, I dreamed of you last night. Or maybe I was awake and just thinking of you you- I’m not sure what the difference is… it all feels the same. I can’t believe it has been another month, or that we’ve entered the final quarter of your first year. I wish I felt more positive, like I have a new lease on life, but mostly I just feel sad and let down. I’m not the same person that I was 9 months ago. I feel raw and vulnerable. I feel like I don’t know how to exist in a life where I have so many feelings. I’m too sensitive to expose myself, my family, to the wide range of hurts. Maybe that’s why your little sister is so hard for me to imagine, to connect with. I can imagine our life with her so much more clearly than I could picture you, but not her. None of it feels right. I know I’m just in a different place, that all of the things I missed out on with you are becoming the things I look forward to with her.

Baby, I wish I could trade the last 9 months and more to hold you again. To study your face and your hair, to look at your arms and legs and memorize every inch of you. I wish I could have fought for you, I wish I had had the chance to fight. I hope you never doubt my love. In all my numbness and denial, in every moment that I’m not crying and I lay here not thinking- that’s all me, just trying not to let it sink in. I cannot handle the enormity of your absence and I’m not sure I ever will.