It’s been almost 2 months.
Living through child loss for 2 months feels simultaneously like no time at all and like an eternity.
I keep chasing the same thoughts around like a dust devil until it disappears. Then awhile later it blows back up and spins in circles until it gives up again. I never catch it. It never stops returning.
I go back in time reviewing all of the interactions. Could I change one and have a different outcome? After chasing them all down I only return even more unsure.
If I could just hug you, and shake you, then hug you again. I’d probably yell for good measure, then another hug.
But that’s not an option anymore.
I think I’m stuck in the anger stage of grief. Anger at you, anger at me, and especially at all the shit that happened to you; at the broken road you were put on, over which none of us had control.
My head knows there’s nothing I could have done, but my heart won’t let it go.
Maybe I should be looking forward to a heavenly reunion, but there’s too much bitter in that bittersweet thought.
I hope that the peace which always eluded you is now yours. That’s my only comfort.
I hope that the trauma that burdened you like a mountainous backpack has been cast off and into an endless abyss where it’s weight will never crush you again.
Is it too late to remind you that I love you, that you are worthy and deserving of love? Perhaps you know that now in a way that was impossible to grasp when you were here.
I miss you. I always will.