Almost One Year

Today is September 1st. In exactly one month it will have been one year since my daughter, Roxanne, died. And as that day draws closer, my anxiety increases. I’m not sure why, but it’s almost as if the more time that goes by the further away I feel like she is; like, the more time that she’s been gone makes it more real. I can’t explain it, really, but somehow it feels more permanent.

I know it’s not rational. But grief is not rational. You cannot reason your way out of grief. You can try to ignore it, stuff it down, drown it out with wine, but that just makes it raise its ugly head even higher and stronger once the stuffing, ignoring, and wine run out. I know these things, but knowing is totally different than feeling it in your heart and your soul. Sometimes I have to stuff it down in order to be able to function in the real world. I don’t always stuff my grief down, in fact, I try not to. But there are times when it has to be done. Sometimes you have to be able to make decisions about life: careers, finances, home, and family. It takes focus and effort to set your grief aside; to ignore the pain that grips your heart in a vice is exhausting. And then to divert your attention to things that seem so trivial and meaningless is truly draining. So I can’t imagine doing it for very long. It would tear me apart.

Now we have our grandchildren living with us. This is a blessing, we see her in them every moment of everyday.  We also have to be their strength because they miss their momma so much. They want to hug the pictures of her that we have in their room. They want to hold her fingerprint that we have on a chain around our necks. They want to read the same book every night that talks about the gift of memories. They want their momma… And all the while, I want their momma, too.

It breaks my heart to know that they will eventually lose a lot of their memories of her. I was six years old when my father died and I barely have any memories of him left. They were five and six when she died. I don’t want them to forget her ever. I will never forget her. She is forever a part of me and she will forever be a part of them. How can I keep her memory alive for them? How can I make sure she doesn’t slowly slide away from them? I pray for the strength to keep her memory alive in them.

And it hasn’t even been one year. I dread the anniversary. I dread future anniversaries. But I dread because I loved. So I will continue to remind myself that love never dies and in that way she will never truly be gone. She lives within my heart and soul. And I will strive to keep her alive within her children’s hearts and souls by teaching them about love and acceptance, humor and laughter. I will teach them about music and poetry, horses and glitter. And hopefully by instilling her loves and beliefs in them she will remain eternal.