Dear UD,
It seems unbelievable
that we are starting a New Year that you and Dad will never see;
I have been so sad the
past few days as 2016 approached.
2016, just a number, a
New Year, a blank slate,
yet it heralds a time
in this world where we must go on without you,
a path on this earth
where you cannot follow,
a journey we must now
make alone.
It doesn't seem right.
I made a 2016 family
calendar since you are not here to do it anymore,
and there were too many
dates I had to leave blank,
no labels but heavy
with meaning,
strong with memory.
January 4th—the
day we lost Dad,
March 1st—Dad's
birthday,
March 15th—your
birthday,
April 28th—the
day we lost you.
The funeral days are
sharp yet blurry,
and every day after
pregnant with a grief we do not want to birth.
We stumbled through our
first holiday season without you,
and most of us became
ill,
vomiting up all of our
unspoken words and emotions.
But me, I stepped on
the cat's tail, on Christmas Day,
fell and fractured my
wrist. A trip to the ER
and I came home with a
splint on my right wrist.
Shattered lives,
shattered bones.
Broken bones, broken
spirits.
Losing you was like
losing my right arm, and now I am utterly
helpless.
We all feel so bereft,
unready, lost.
We miss you both so
much.
We wish we could rewind
to you.
But time waits for no
one so
we are marched into
2016,
a year we are not ready
to face,
into a world we are not
ready to know,
into a time without
you.
Out of the remains of
our battered world,
we must create a new
normal as our new selves emerge.
But we carry your love,
your hearts, your memories into 2016, and
will band together,
help each other, and
use the knowledge and
gifts that you taught us
to move forward, recover, and
become more resilient
as we remember to
cherish every
moment and memory
with those we love.
Love, Rach
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