Last night was incredibly rough. I broke down and cried so hard for Grace. I wailed and screamed “I miss her” and “why did she have to die?” I took her urn out (something we rarely do) and we held her ashes and cried together.
I seriously do not understand how parents ever heal from the death of a child. It is the most unimaginable nightmare. We have to wake up, every day, and live without her.
Her room is filled with little girl things. Pink blankets, dresses, pacifiers, a stroller, a crib, a car seat. So many things that are hers, yet will never be hers. It all just sits in there, waiting….
When she died, all of our hopes and dreams for her died too. We lost a lifetime of love and laughter. We lost grandchildren. We lost everything.
Today was the first Sunday I didn’t cry about Grace.
I had no tears left after last night.
I did, however, light a candle in her room. Just like I do every single Sunday when the sun goes down.