The days I wander through…plod through…or downright dig my way through with my bare hands…feel like I’m existing half with the living and half with those who’ve passed. It feels like life, only like no life I remember and no life I’ve wanted.
Life just somehow miraculously goes ON. How, I have no clue. How God can allow the sun rise on a day when I feel everyone should be deep in the hole with me is beyond me. Everyone’s world should be turned upside down, right?? Mine is. Mike’s is. Our family’s are. Why not theirs? I suppose that is the simple and difficult thing about this all…we need to find a way to continue living.
Continue reading “No Life I’ve Wanted”
he juxtaposition of feelings with a a loss this great is almost like managing another full time job. I have to maintain my own whiplash day & night. In any given day, hour or minute, really, I can feel peace and gut-wrenching guilt. I can feel like I will never smile again, then realize I’m breaking into a grin over a memory or vision of my girl. I can cry and laugh in the same sentence and sleep soundly and toss and turn in one night.
We have talked about running away. Escape to another state, another existence. Drive cross country, see anything other than the four walls of our home and take off for adventures beyond once we reach the California coast. We want to do all of the things Katie never got the chance to do. But we could never escape this pain and it would follow us like our own personal rain cloud. Coming home to an empty home would be just as painful in an hour or 6 months from now.
The absolute last place in the world I want to be is in the biting cold, deep snow cemetery, yet I’m anxious as all hell for them to plow so we can get in to sit with her. To visit and tell her, as close as we can physically be, that we love her. I cry in her room at the very sight of her sweet things and smell of her yet want to be in there more than anywhere else in our home. I want to be anywhere she was – sit in her favorite spot, eat dinner at her spot at the table. I wish I could put her clothes ON just to be close to her. But then, I want to hide any evidence of her because the sight of her toys…her coats…her little shoes…it is all just too much to take in. WHERE IS SHE? WHY ISN’T SHE HERE? But oh….to put away those signs would be like she never existed. And boy did she EVER exist.
Katertot, Kit Kat, Katie Girl, doodle bug…you are my once and forever true love and there is not one second that goes by that you aren’t on my mind and in my heart. You are my favorite person in the WORLD and I love you beyond the moon and all the stars. Please don’t ever forget how very proud we are of you, how very much you are loved and how deeply and painfully you are missed. Yet for all of the pain and suffering we feel now, there is not one second I would have traded for your remarkable, extraordinary life.
I know I’m posting a lot. Bear with me; I don’t think it’s going to end anytime soon. A few friends have asked me to post the fox story so here goes; as abbreviated as I can to explain a days long story, but to give Katie’s fox the proper story-telling.
Continue reading “The Story of the Fox”
It has been eleven days. This morning at exactly 5:37am, I woke. The moment she took her last breath eleven days ago, I woke. Why, do you suppose? Was that her? What was she trying to tell me? I’m struggling to find her and feel her.
She has visited dozens of my friends as the sly fox she has shown herself to be. But not to me. Not to Mike. Why is that? Why won’t she come? She loved the snow and is getting a kick out of this storm, but that does not bring me peace. It makes me mad. She should be HERE enjoying it. Not sending it for us to reflect on her. I want my friends to enjoy their kids in this wonderland, but I WANT TO ENJOY HER TOO.
Continue reading “11 Days…Since”
I’ve been trying to blog this today but our website isn’t cooperating. Many have asked for us to share our letter to Kate and I am honored that so many have requested to re-read it. It was written about an hour after we got home from the hospital after Kate passed. I climbed into her bed and let the words and tears flow thinking about what I would say to her if I had one more chance.
Thank you is totally inadequate to say to thank our amazing krew for supporting us. Today and always.
Continue reading “Our Dearest Darling Kate”