March 17, 2011


One month.

One month has passed since I last held her, since I last kissed her, since I last caressed her little cheek or let my fingers absentmindedly trace the contour of her ankle giving way to foot and then to toe and back again as she lay nestled against my chest.  I miss her milky, slightly sour smell and the feel of her silken curls on my face as I bury my nose into the base of her neck.  I miss staring for hours at the endless whisps of her eyelashes.  They seemed to go on forever.  I ache, not just from grief within my heart.

I physically hurt.


After a month, I'd have thought the pain to have changed slightly, nearly imperceptibly, but slightly.  I do not expect that it will ever lessen rather I will come accustom to its presence.  It hasn't changed though.  I've tasted life without her.  It's bitterness causing my nose to wrinkle and bile to fill my mouth.

I don't like it.  I am a creature of habit.  I crave familiarity.  There is nothing yet familiar about whole hours in the afternoon when Channing is napping and the house is silent.  There is intent and purpose, almost an urgency, to the activities that take up this time.  I think and over-think my way through blog posts.  I don't even care if an hour passes and I do nothing more than stare at her picture on the computer monitor, the video lesson from the photo editing class I'm taking online having long-since ended.

In my head, logic supercedes love and I know the path that Sophie has taken is the one that was chosen for her.  My heart, my broken, never-to-be-fixed,  mama's heart is neither ready nor willing to accept that this is what is meant to be.

I love you and I miss you my pretty, bitty girl.


KF said...

Oh Holly. You are beautiful and I love you. Your words ring so true. I ache along side of you for our sweet little miss. Xoox grandma kath

Nellie Dee said...

Oh Holly. Our hearts break for you. And, we hate it that she was stolen from your arms. AND NO. That's not "what was meant to be".
And I rue that our circumstances keep us so tied down and that I never held her. Oh, please forgive us (me specifically).

Anonymous said...


We have never met, but I am Andy's cousin, Tricia. We share in this very similar circumstance. The loss of a child. Although, our stories a bit different. The pain and heartache is the same.

One month after your loss. You are so mormal. The pain was still there for me as well. It is almost a month that moves along with or without you. It is a time when everything is unfamiliar and "not normal.' In one of your entries you mentioned the words' "the new normal." It was funny to see those wordes again because Matt (my husband) and I us to always say that we have a "new normal."

It does get easier and I agree that perhaps the pain never leaves yet gets absorbed into your everyday life. It will be good again. Perhaps a slightly different good, but you will again enjoy all of little things in life that bring you pure happiness! It takes time, in my opinion, to much time.

I can remember longing for the day to come that I would only think of Alex 100 times instead of 500 times a day. There were days when I just wanted to be "normal." Sometimes those feelings made me feel so guilty. I have learned after three years that you do heal on. I use to hate when people told me that one day I would move on. "Move on" sounds so cruel. I would never move on from losing my third son - Alex. Yet, I would heal on. Each day slowly but surely my boys that were blessed to stay here with me on earth would help me heal. Make my life purposeful again.

I admire your strength to share your story. I know how hard it is when you feel so raw and exposed. I remember days and moments of time when I would leave a room to go sob by myself. Just needing a chance to be alone with my feelings. A time when my other boys would not witness another time when mommy was crying.

Always remember to take the time for yourself. On the days when you feel good and the days when you feel horrible. Allow yourself to feel all the emotions! Some of them so very hard to face, but once you face them the walk becomes easier.
I can remember feeling guilty on a day that I found myself smiling or for an instant not thinking of the horrible tradegy that was dealt to my family. I have come to find that your mind, heart and body must allow for these small lapses of time. It is the only way we can carry the hurt of someone so loved lost.

Holly, please know that I think of you and your family. I pray that Sophie heals you and wraps you in warmth when you need it most. Find comfort in the fact that it is her turn to care for you. As unnatural as it may seem. I know she is proud to do so. She is your daughter and you have taught her how to love unconditionally! You have given her all she needs to know to care for you and your family.