One Thousand and Fifteen

One thousand and fifteen days.

I miss her every moment of every day. 

One thousand and fifteen days since she died and every single morning her face is the first thing I think of.  The reality of her death is my very first thought every single day.  One thousand and fifteen days. 

One thousand and fifteen days, smiling when I think of her smile.  Remembering, crying, laughing screaming.   The impact of her life, her love, my deep unending love for her.  One thousand and fifteen days.

One thousand and fifteen days that the living have lived, I have lived, we have lived.  One thousand and fifteen days of watching baby girls as they grow into little girls.  Wondering, imagining. One thousand and fifteen days.

One thousand and fifteen days. 

Day One- Darkness covers me, my chest has this heaviness that still on day one thousand and fifteen I bear. 

Day Ten-The world is thick, it's like I am walking in molasses while everyone is taking the molasses free HOV lane.  The pain, absolutely unbearable so I hide it, push it away, undeal.

Day eighty three- I am thankful for the friends and family that still send love letters via snail mail.  Thank you for remembering me, and honoring her.  I always feel in someway that it is Kelsie's heavenly hug to me.

Day One Hundred - I cling to my faith, I grasp it with all the energy I have.  I miss her, every single morning as I walk past her empty bedroom I smile and I cry in the same breath. 

Day One Hundred Eighty - I begin to understand the dichotomy of grief.  I begin to understand that for the rest of my life her memories will bring the same amount of sting as they do joy. 

Day Two Hundred - waves upon waves, crashing into me, breathtaking, life stopping, waves of loss, waves of anger.  I can not escape the sadness, the loneliness, grief's gravity is a force beyond anything I have ever felt.

Day three hundred sixty five to seven hundred thirty - I couldn't explain it if I tried. 

Day eight hundred - You know that Gloria Estefan song - "Coming out of the Dark" ?  Day eight hundred the cusp of year three, the waves ease in intensity.  I begin to understand and honor grief's purpose.  The missing is never easy but coping with it becomes manageable.

One Hundred Days between eight hundred and nine hundred - faith, o' me of little faith.  The comfort I had once ran to I now hide from.  It's no longer comfort but more pain more confusion.  To be transparent in this area is difficult.  No one really wants to believe that through tragedy, faith, could not withstand.

Day nine hundred fifty one - I am living, and loving even through the disappointments.  Longing for a rainbow baby, receiving that gift to only have it stripped away, I am still living, not just living but enjoying this life.  Missing her deeply every singly day.

Day one thousand fifteen - A wave of grief, not taking me under just a reminder of how deeply I love her and how deeply I miss her. 

One thousand and fifteen days.