Waking up to a new day, another day without my family and another sleepless night. Another day that lingers on like a musty basement smell. Sure, I get up. I do my chores, make coffee and I hug my fur babies. I fight my thoughts to keep them on the narrow path. The path that does not allow for roaming. Should I relax my mind and let it wander it will likely wander right off the cliff. It takes perseverance to be so rigid. Sadness is at my door every day knocking, banging trying to get in. There is no room to open the door. Opening the door can be fatal. It is a consistent war to maintain the off switch to the floodgates of my sadness. It is consistently a war to hold the facade of indifference.
Filling my days and nights with studies of truth. Silencing the screaming whispers that occupy my soul with finding a new purpose. I find some relief comes from helping and being empathetic to others who have experienced deep pain. I yearn to find the answers to heal the heart, soul and body. It is easier some days than others, and some days it is just too much.
Death Of My Soul
In many ways, there is no greater sadness than to lose a child. It is an unbearable life altering and incomprehensible experience. Today still, four years later I still really don’t believe it. It is so unthinkable it remains surreal. Who can even live, when your whole being has been stolen? Trying to re-create a “me” that I don’t know. Trying to find who I might be, set aside from the role as ‘mommy’. Every dream I had has been taken. Every goal I had destroyed.
I don’t know what my babies voices sound like anymore. I hear the echo of my only phone conversation in 4 years with my youngest at the time 5-year-old… She whispered so as not to be heard, “I miss you forever, Mommy”, and when I asked her to repeat it because of her whispering, she more loudly said, “Oh nothing”. She could not be heard saying she missed me. I hear her voice every day. Every night. “I miss you forever, Mommy”. It was her birthday. April 17th, 2017. That was the last time.
Finding Life, After My Own Death
Somehow I swallow hard and choke down the tears. I find the strength to re-create and to discover again just who I am. Looking for answers searching for truth. I throw myself into the abyss of learning and find there is much to be grateful for. I find beauty in nature, in creation as a whole, in the most amazing awakening to the way we are created synergistic-ally with nature. In nature, we can find healing on so many levels. Gods greatest gift to us in my mind is the garden he did give us for a home.
If I can find any lesson learned in the loss I have endured, it is that even when you lose yourself, even when you are completely broken, God has given us everything. He never said it would be easy, or fair. He said in these days good would be called evil and evil, good. Families would turn against one another. Men would be lovers of self. Children would not respect parents, and parents would not raise up their children. “A house divided falls”, that has been the plan for today since the beginning of time. So, I choose each day to get up. To stand up, learn the truth, tell truth, help others, and to find my own self.