I don't know how to explain the pain that I am in. I don't know how to explain the constant flooding of emotions that I feel deep within my physical body. You know when you are hurt and you scream out in pain, that is the feeling that I have in the pit of my stomach each and every day. I have a terrible longing to just scream out. To yell and scream as loud as I can. To freak out and tell others what I think is happening and why it hurts so bad. I just want to scream, to physically release some of the anger and pain that I am feeling, to let it be known how much I hurt, how bad the physical part of me aches. I want my little girl back and nothing is ever going to make that right or make that better. I just want my baby. I want to hold her and tell her how important she is, to wake up from this nightmare and put this bad dream behind us, to reset the matrix and be in the same world as her, to do something...anything really... that will give me the peace of mind that I need to continue, and without these things, there is nothing that is ever going to make the world right again. Nine years and fifteen days could have never possibly been long enough with her.
They say that losing a child is the hardest loss and I am certain that this is true. I don't know hot to explain it but when someone else passes now, there is no dreadful pain that I felt when I heard of someone passing before losing my precious girl. I relive the moments from that day over and over again. I relive the last time that she gave me a kiss, how she stopped me on those stairs to tell me that she loved me and that I was the best mommy ever, how she put her little hands on my cheeks and gave me the biggest last kiss ever. I relive being on the bottom of those stairs screaming up at her and her answering me, then her losing consciousness and hearing her body hit the floor. I relive the moment that we were told that she was gone over and over and over again. I relive being with her body and holding her, telling her that I love her a million times a day and hearing my husband weeping in the room next to us. I relive the hours that we spent in that funeral home alone with her body. I can't stop reliving these moments to the point that I feel as though I am going crazy. However, I also don't want to stop reliving these moments. I don't want these moments taken from me because the last moments that I will ever have and without them I am losing a piece of her story.
I am completely consumed by the thoughts of her all day. I think about what she would have liked, what she would have picked out, and I often use that to guide my own choices. I got a new parkway backpack yesterday to replace the one that I used to have and I picked out the color that I thought that she would like best. I bought a matching duffle bag since I no longer have one of those and the few bags that I do have are open topped and do not zip closed. All of these things have become regular parts of our life. All of these things have become the normal for me. I don't ever make a decision without first trying to think about what my girl would have done and then I usually make the decision with her in mind and while thinking about how I can first honor her.
Today I woke up with the need to scream, with the need to be alone to mourn, with the need for my bathtub that I no longer have as my bathtub was my place to go when I needed to just lay and sob for hours, I need those things back. I need a space where I can be completely raw and free with my emotions, a space where I won't affect anyone else, where the kids won't know that I am struggling, where I will not make them feel as though they are not enough. I woke up with a panic today and then I realized that it is the 20th of the month. The month anniversary of when our Hell started and when we lost our angel. Nine months without her smile. Nine months without hearing her singing in the backseat while I drove. Nine months without her precious voice telling me that she loves me. Nine months without her consistent love and patience. Nine months of not having my perfect girl, of not being able to tell her how much she means to me and how much I think about her. Nine months of longing to have her in my arms. Nine months of a constant longing and wishing for something that will never be. Nine months represents 3/4 of a year. Nine months of birthdays, celebrations, holidays, and time with family that we have had to endure without our littlest love. Nine months f weeping in a way that I did not know that I had the ability to weep. Nine months of enduring a painful hell that I cannot describe to you unless you have been there (and if you have, I am so very sorry this is the worst possible hell that I can imagine). Nine months of missing out on her laughter, her jokes, her funny way of doing everything. Nine months of longing in a way that I can't begin to describe to you, of longing for the very thing that your soul needs, the very thing that you can never have again. Nine months into a world that doesn't feel real, that doesn't feel like the world that we had before. Nine months of feeling like I can't possibly survive another day and then waking up to find the next morning that I did. It has been a painful nine months, the longest nine months and the shortest nine months of my life all at the same time.
Today as I look back on the past nine months, I don't know how I have done it. I don't know how I have endured so much pain. I don't know how I can continue. I don't know how I can keep going. I don't know how to keep things moving forward. I feel myself deteriorating mentally. I know that I am not all here. I know that I am messed up. Being smart and aware of how messed up you are is also a very tough place to be. It's a new level of pain that you can't understand, a new level of pain that is the worst and cuts through your soul, a level of pain that is never going to be gone, and yet a level of pain that you have to push yourself through. I went to see Dead and Company with Andrew on Sunday and it was an amazing show with a setlist full of my favorite songs from over the years. Once again at a show I felt as though Adeline was with me and as if she was guiding their choices and nagging at them to play the songs that she wanted me to hear. I need her here though. I don't want songs and signs from the beyond, I just want her here in my arms. I feel like I am slowly mentally breaking and that I am physically going to follow. I am trying to be healthier, to be better to my body, to exercise more and focus on me more so that I can get into better physical shape, but I feel the constant pull away from that and into something that I have never felt before. A long slow and painful pushing into something that is not what I had ever worried about. I don't know how else to explain this new life except that my soul is shouting out and screaming in pain and the rest of me is just now catching up to a space where I feel like I should never have to be..
If you see me today, know that it is one of the hardest days in my current reality...that nine months or three quarters of a year have passed since I have had sunshine and happiness in my soul. That no matter how long it goes, that will never be there again. Sure I experience happiness and I have happy moments, but right now anything else is just too hard for me. It feels impossible to do the littlest tasks and yet I keep going trying to do something that will make it possible for me to survive. To get through each day and show those around me how much they mean to me. To make sure that my other three children know that they are enough, but that when I hurt it's because of the hole that is in my soul, the same hole that I know that they have as I see them and I know that they are hurting too.
I am thankful that this past weekend was fun with Andrew, that we got to laugh a lot together...especially at the hostel situation and Andrew's first impressions of sleeping in a hostel. I loved being able to share in an adventure with my adult child. I love that we had such a nice time and that we got to do so many fun things from delicious sushi on a conveyor belt to 1 am tacos and tequila (I might have drank a little too much). Then to have some delicious Chicago deep dish together before taking him back to school. It was so nice to connect with him and enjoy a little time together. Having him leave for college has been a weird experience after the fire. I was prepared for him to leave before the fire, but I worry about him in new ways after. Andrew was very close to Adeline and I know that he had plans to take her around his college campus and show her things, plans that he never got to carry out either.