Updated: Sep 2
I read the "Birth of Hope" written by another SUDC mom, and there were a lot of concepts that really resonated with me. One in particular was: "the death of one life, but of a million moments." Yes, missing Rosie's physical presence here with us is horrible - but we're also mourning all the moments/experiences/memories/potential that will never be unveiled to us. All the many things that Rosie would've done and become as she continued to grow up. What sports would she play? When would she learn to ride a bike? Would she like school and be a good student? What activities would she be into? What friends would she make? How would she be with her younger siblings/as the leader of our clan? What boys would she date? What would her style be? What college would she go to? What job would she aspire to have? Married? Her own kids? Where would she live? How would she be with us when she got older? How would her relationship with Grace and Johnny continue to develop? What family vacations would we go on?
It's all the little mundane moments too that aren't life's milestones but are just as meaningful. The bedtime cuddles, the rainy days at home, the Mommy/Rosie excursions (nails/cooking classes/adventures), the days with family, the school pick ups and drop offs, the kisses and excitement every night when I got home from work, the meals, the movies, the dancing, the tubby's, the conversations. What I would do to have any of these moments with her.
I miss my sweet girl so very much. If I really think hard - close my eyes and imagine special moments with her, I can almost feel her with me. But those thoughts and moments bring on tears and pain. The excruciating pain of missing her. It's not fair. It's not right. There's so much left to do. So much life left to live. So much left for her to learn. So much love and laughter to be shared. How can we go on while mourning all these thousand deaths? How do we accept all the missed opportunities and the unknowns? How do we not fear the amount of time we have left to live before she comes running into my arms again?
One moment at a time.
Hold onto the memories tightly.
Talk about Rosie often and continue to acknowledge the love.
Spread her spirit with others.
Have faith in the bigger purpose.
Spend time in prayer.
Honor her life, light, laughter, spirit.
Make a positive impact for her on this world, on our family.
Unite with each other.
And always LOVE.