I so desperately wanted to believe this. To convince myself and above all my 3 girls. It's early afternoon August 2, 2014.
I'm on my knees. As I look over at them. Their eyes searching mine for answers.
Nothing changes.....
I feel as though they are across a ravine from me. I can see them and I want to pull them into my arms to make the past hours disappear. To gently wake them and say it was only a nightmare.
Nothing changes.....
Even now as I say those words seeing their young innocent faces, my stomach drops. The tears begin right in the pit of my stomach and slowly make their way to releasing from my eyes.
Nothing changes....
How naive. To think any words could fix this. The feeling of the abyss keeping me away from my daughters is their father's body. A few hours before the 5 of us together, watching a movie. And then his last breath, me working on him , as my oldest calls 911. My knees and the top of my feet would carry wounds for months from the skin rubbing off while I did CPR.
No Michelle, everything had changed.
Grief ,in the beginning it was like looking into the bathroom mirror after a shower. You know it's you looking back or you assume, maybe hope it is. It took 3 years to clear , once it did my face was staring back but nothing else was the same.
Now I was a warrior.
Comments