Sometimes when the wind blows – I imagine it is her arms wrapping around me – in one of her famous hugs. Instead of the cold sinking into my bones I feel a calming, warm sadness overcome me.
In the years since she left this world for a better one, my heart has ached for her every single day. I think of the woman she would be today and weep for all the lives that went untouched because she was taken from us far too young.
When I am driving alone in my van and I get lost, as I tend to do, I feel her sitting next to me. She is giggling because I am again lost but she does her best to guide me back on course. Even at the tender age of 9, she had a better sense of direction than me.
To those who say, time heals all wounds, I know they have never held the hand of a child as they have left this world.
When I wash my hair in the shower, I am instantly returned to that cold PICU room. We are in the bathroom and I am washing her hair for the first time after her brain surgery. I had to be oh so gentle because part of her bone flap had been removed. I don’t scrub my scalp nearly as intensely as I did before she got sick.
When I hear the words, ‘everything happens for a reason,’ I want to scream. There is no reason for her to have left us so soon.
The smell of Papa John’s pizza reminds of the last meal she never got to enjoy because she started throwing-up just as the food arrived. Hours later she would start having seizures and would be put into a coma that she would never wake up from.
“God only gives you want you can handle,” to this I say your God must be a sadist.
When I feel the sand slip between my fingers, I hear her laughter and remember the hours of fun we had doing sand art together in the hospital. I can’t do sand art with my own children.
“This to shall pass,” I wish it would. The pain doesn’t get less intense…I just don’t wear it on my sleeve anymore, it hides deep within me.