Over-Sharing

I’m over-sharing. I’m losing my voice talking about her. I’m desperate for something and I don’t know what it is. Her, I guess. Oh so very desperate for her.

Some days I wish you knew my pain – not for yourselves (oh God no.) I just wish you understood so I could stop feeling like I have to tell you. Explain it. Because there is no explanation. There are no words. But sometimes I feel like if I stop saying it, you’ll think it doesn’t hurt anymore. So I’m telling you now. It hurts an unimaginable amount. It continues. It goes on and on and on. It does not get easier. It is not better. I CRAVE her like a drug. I need to tell anyone who will listen how much I love her. I need constant validation that she knew she was loved. IS loved. I apologize to her every single day that I am sorry I couldn’t save her. I need ever-present signs…she’s got to be sick of me asking every day to stay close. I need to force my pain into someone’s face and have them nod or hug me, only if just to acknowledge that nearly 7 months later, I am not okay. I am not anywhere near okay.

I know that you all care. (Trust me, I know.) I know that you all are aware. It’s everyone ELSE. How do we get “them” to fight for our children? How do we, as mighty a community as we are, spread awareness when people want to look away? How do I advocate for kids like Kate when people I know, love and care about can’t stand to read/see/hear about it? How can I raise awareness if by posting about CANCER on my daughter’s page…who DIED FROM CANCER…offends?

I don’t know when I will be able to jump full-force into Kate’s Cause. So many ideas. Such a huge, huge responsibility to undertake…filling the space she left with something meaningful. WORTHY of her name. It’s a lot of pressure and I’m crumbling without having started. I will get there. Eventually. Things are in the works.

Right now, I need to miss her. I need to share her obsessively and not care who reads, sees, shares, comments or likes. I just need to put her glorious, beautiful, perfect soul out for all to see and for even silent acknowledgement that she lived. She was here. She mattered. She was mine. And I miss her.

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