ask me, tell me… I am listening

I feel alone at times in my grief. As a good man named Joe W. once told me, winter is not a good time for grievers. We just had the big snowstorm in Texas. I haven’t left my home all week. My girls have gone out, done sleepovers and dinner with friends. I’m glad they have been able to enjoy their time with others.

I have isolated myself. I tell so many people not to do that, especially as they grieve. Yet, here I am, not calling people and venturing out into the world.

In a way, I know if I go out or call, I won’t talk about me. I will just ask about them, how they’re doing, etc. I’ve found I can’t discuss my grief. I can’t talk about my sweet girl, whom I miss so much. The ache and the emptiness in the pit of my stomach endlessly chips away my strength. It’s been 2 1/2 years, but I relive each moment when I was told she was gone. I feel like throwing up. I feel like screaming. I want to curl up in a ball and just cry.

I do want to be happy again. I want to be happy again. I miss being truly geniunely happy, with my heart full and my spirits lifted. I miss my Allie. I miss all my kids, because I’m stuck in 2018. My girls were two years younger, not in high school yet, and without the attitudes they have now (they’re not mean, mind you – just “too cool”). Two years ago, both my sons were living in town, very close to where we live. Now, one is in another town, and the other is two years older with a serious girlfriend with whom he spends all his free time.

I am grateful that my kids are surviving and thriving, despite their trauma. But I’m stuck. I’ve been to therapy every month for the last two years, and I can’t escape this grief.

I know there are highs and lows, and I’m just in my lows. I know this will pass. I know I will stop shoveling the snow and ice just to keep my mind busy. But I know I will never and forever not have my girl with me anymore.

Don’t tell me she’s always with me – yes, I realize that. For today, and maybe tomorrow too, I am ok with being sad and being in despair. I miss my girl. No one misses my girl like I do, and no one understand how much I miss my girl. I will snap out of this soon. I know it. I know it because it is the Lenten season, and I know there is another better life where Allie is at. I want to get there someday, and I have to believe.