Now that the days are getting shorter and my grief is taking more of a physical toll, I find myself wanting to climb into bed as soon as I get home from work at 6:30. I literally have to self coach myself from going upstairs until at least 8:30 on the nights I have nothing going on after work.
However, the other night I was up until probably 11:30 so needless to say I was extremely tired by the time I turned the light off. I wasn’t even able to turn onto my side and sink into my bed when I started sobbing. Not that I am ever surprised when I am ambushed by unexpected tears, but that particular night the tears were different. These were tears generated by a place in my heart and mind where I never really allowed myself to go because the tender reality was just too much for my broken spirit to absorb and feel: I miss Amy. Three words I have said countless times, but too fragile to feel. Now that I do, nothing will ever be the same.
Yes, I have been grieving for 14 and 1/2 months and the grief has generated an ocean of tears. Those tears of grief came from a place of utter frustration, shock, anger, sorrow and despair. In the midst of my grief I have cried for my shattered family. I have cried because of an empty room and an empty place at the table. I have cried because people have hurt me. Yet, I have protected myself from truly allowing the coldest reality of all to settle into my heart which surprised me until those floodgates opened up on Monday night. I felt it truly for the first of many times to come. The tears were not all tangled up in the zillion emotions associated with losing my child … I miss Amy.
Anyone who happens to reads my blog knows how I bitch about being so misunderstood. I rant about other people’s reactions to my grief. I scream remember my daughter. I am only able to give little tidbits about Amy’s personality and how very kind she was in this world of so many ego driven, self centered people. But how much do I write about the true essence of my daughter? I just can’t because the loss is just so deeply profound that I can’t find the words.
On Monday night my heart broke through the grief and shifted to a place with the most bittersweet feeling of any reality I have felt before and that is I miss Amy. Three simple words which say it all and generate the biggest tears of all. I miss her, I miss her, I miss her.
Not surrounded by the effing count your blessings for anything going on this side of Devastation Day, but the purest of truths. I miss Amy.
I miss you, Amy. Nothing is the same without you, my sweet, sweet daughter.
Love always, feathers, Mom