Once upon a time in my own little world, I looked forward to snowfalls. Before life changed, snow was beautiful and comforting. Yes, I was one of those people who would race to the grocery store to stock up on food for my family. My shopping cart would contain half snacks, including the ingredients for a delicious dessert as well as hot cocoa with marshmallows, and I couldn’t wait to get back home anxiously searching for the first snowflake to fall.
My mother, sisters and I would exchange phone calls to be reassured that everyone was home safely and then call periodically to compare our snow totals as our children ran in and out of the house leaving a pile of boots and wet clothing inside the front door. In the middle of these conversations, I would be shouting warnings to my rosy-cheeked children beckoning them to come inside before they developed frostbite or to stop dragging snow all over our house. Life was good before life changed.
In later years, after my kids were young adults, with only Amy still living in the nest, snowfalls meant chinese food, decadent desserts and Amy outside helping her father to shovel out our property and to dig out our cars. Continuing to check in with my older kids as well as phone calls with my sisters and Mom to assess snow totals and reassurance that everyone was off of the roads, etc. Everyone? There is always someone missing in the word everyone which just tugs so hard on my heart. Life changes.
Now snowfalls are lonely. The glistening picturesque scenes hold no beauty. I cooked during the storm yesterday, even made cookies, but nothing tastes the same. Now I worry when my husband is out there shoveling or my kids are not home in their individual homes safe and dry. I know only too well life changes in an instant.
Yesterday before heading to the store, we stopped at the cemetery. Yeah, life tragically changes.
I am not okay. Despite reading blogs of hope which attest to new adventure and new beginnings when their life changed, that is not where I am on my journey. Yes, one person in my little corner of my world held a vital key to who I am and my ability to rebound when life changes. When my life changed so did my entire world.
Life is not finished with me. Possibility remains for more devastation and even joys. However, never ever will my little corner of the world be okay without Amy. She was just too significant to me for that to happen. No hopeful books, blogs, preachings or words will change the value of my daughter’s life in my life.
Always remembering Amy.