chronicling life after death

But my god is it normal to love your child so much and still have the most intense disappointment.

Nothing went the way I wanted and I feel frustrated with the lack of choices I got to have.

I also have this intense longing and melancholy deep within my soul.

None of my feelings are a reflection of my son.

But I often feel I’m on the outside looking in on someone else’s life.

I am trying to be grateful and gracious.

We discussed re-living traumatic events.

I think about seeing you lying in a hospice bed.

I remember listening to Nicole Dollanganger.

Crying in the shower.

Hyperventilating.

You were dying.

I felt numb.

It was an out of body experience.

Speaking to you for the last time.

Holding space for you.

Letting you know I would be okay without you.

Inside I was terrified.

A daughter without a mother.

Crying.

So many tears.

A shell of a person left behind.

You were cold in the early hours of the morning.

Blue finger tips.

Like a beautiful corpse in snow.

Sleeping.

Heart wrenching.

I put flowers into your arms before they zipped up the body bag.

Over your head.

Over my heart.

Dad has cancer.

Just like you did.

I’m scared he’ll end up in a body bag.

Just like you.

I can’t survive this trauma again.

Please save him.

Where ever you are.

Please let him come home to me.

I still need him here with me.

Please wait a while longer before bringing him home to you.