One month since she's been gone.
We're coping. Holding her and each other close. Sometimes talking about her, sometimes not. I'm now seeing a therapist who is compassionate and wonderful. We're moving forward, but not yet moving on.
We've received cards and notes, flowers and food - we are surrounded by so much love it humbles us.
A friend sent me bright yellow yarn and I made what I'm calling my sunshine scarf. I love it.
Goodreads lately), and sometimes I just sit.
(Below is something I wrote recently - thank you for all the comments and support here. There might be times when you don't know what to say - hell, there I times I don't know what to say - and I don't want any of you to feel like you have to comment. Right now this is a way for me to process. I appreciate you all just being here).
I wake up with sadness now. It's not always immediate, but each morning it sneaks in and settles around my heart.
I listen to the ice crunch under my boots and recognize how I won't ever build a snowman with my daughter.
I think of lessons I've learned and ones I can teach, and only hope that since she's in Heaven she knows them already.
I walk past little girl clothes in stores and touch them longingly, wondering about what could have been.
I feel grateful for my incredible husband who makes me laugh more than I ever thought possible. I imagine she would have had his capacity for love.
Some days are horrible, some are fine, and yet others are a mix of both. I don't know why I couldn't carry her longer, but she will now forever be carried in my heart.