I have been absent. I have been busy. I have been lazy. I have been angry.
This is what has kept me from writing. I am mad. I am mad that I didn’t go with my gut instincts on October 24th. I am mad that the door opened. I am mad that Natalie’s accident happened. I am mad that Bryan was not home then. I am mad that she never woke up again. I am mad that I had to say goodbye. I am mad that Emily struggles with her feelings of grief and loss on a daily basis and I can’t take that away. I am mad that Allison will never meet her sister. I am mad that I have a beautiful urn in my living room. I am mad that I don’t have a cemetery to visit and grieve in so that I can come home and not do it there. I am mad that I have 2 bins of 12-18 month clothing that needs to be worn (to get the use that the money paid for) but I can’t bring myself to do it...or to get rid of it. I am mad that I don’t get to raise all three of my girls. I am mad that Natalie will never tell me I love you (at least not on this side of the veil). I am mad that she will never have a first love, first kiss, first dance at her wedding. I am mad that she will not get to take care of Bryan and me when we are old and ornery. I am mad at the thought of being mad.
That is what my life, thoughts, and writings have been for the last 3 months. I have been absent because the story would have been the same. I did not want to bore you with it. But then I realized…although I write to let you all know how we are doing, I also write to work through all of these feelings. So I decided that I need to get back to writing. Here I sit, in front of a computer screen, in front of an urn, trying to put my thoughts into sentences. This is quite difficult, much more than I thought it would be.