Less than three weeks into losing my daughter. I never realized grief could be so tight, so gripping, so all-consuming. I didn't realize it would creep into my dreams so that even sleep is not always an escape from the pain.
I didn't expect grief to be so paradoxical, so twisted, so ironic. I never expected to be swept away by tides of sadness, engulfed by sorrow and loss, and never thought that any emotional pain could drown me so completely while moments later, I find myself in a state of numbness, disbelief, and denial. I couldn't have imagined being able to laugh light-heartedly at the silly things life throws at us, while at the same time, feeling the deeply entrenched pain that accompanies the loss of one of my own.
I brought her into this world...and she took herself out, so brutally, so suddenly, so unexpectedly, and without adequate explanation. No final note. No final goodbyes. Just...gone.
All of this, in less than three weeks. It doesn't get easier...not yet anyway. It is still mounting, gaining in strength and intensity, growing exponentially. When will it crest?
The mundane...the dishes that need to be washed, the bank deposits that need to be made, the groceries that need to be purchased...all seem so wrong. "Life goes on," people say; but does it? Really? It feels more like limbo...like I am living in an altered state of being neither here nor there. Yes, Life goes on - but right now, I resent it. Every new day is simply another one without her.
Why? Why Christina?? You were so loved! You had such potential! And this is so final, your parting. Forever. And still, in this fog of grief, I still cannot comprehend nor believe it entirely - and yet, knowing. It's true. This really happened. You took your life. And there is no turning back. If only, as your five year old son so eloquently lamented, if only we could rewind.
Rest in peace, my baby girl. I love you.
No comments:
Post a Comment