It wasn’t until after Michelle died that I noticed her Instagram tagline.
“the mountains are calling so I must climb.
trust in God.”
It was as if her heart was speaking to my heart and telling me what happened to her and what I should do after she’s gone……the mountains called her….and I needed to trust God.
The picture I took in December when Keith and I escaped to The Biltmore Estate for a bit.
Escape. In the truest sense of the word.
It’s been 7 months, and the heartache is still so intense that it’s nothing that I could ever describe. She’s on my mind every waking moment. And sleep is hard to comeby so it’s many hours throughout the long day. When I go to bed, I know I have to wake up at some point, usually in the middle of the night, and I know I have to do ‘this’ all over again. How? How?
I say out loud, “I don’t think I can do this anymore, God.” “I don’t know how to live without her.” Sometimes I am so antsy that I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin if I don’t get to hug her. I just want to wrap my arms around her. So I reach out in front of me and act like I’m going to….and there’s nothing there to hug where I am, just air. And the tears come, knowing this is my life.
I don’t say the words “new normal” and I shudder to even type them. There is nothing normal or new about this. It’s not normal to bury a child. And yet I’ve watched a sister and brother have to do it. That makes 3 grandchildren in Heaven for my mom and dad.
That’s alot. That’s too many.
When you’ve been given someone so beautiful as Michelle, and she’s taken from you, well,…….my life will never be the same again.
I will never be who I was on the morning of August 1.
My family will never be the same again.
Our house is not the same.
The dynamics have changed.
The energy is lacking.
The carpools have stopped.
The singing has come to a complete standstill.
Her room is getting dusty.
No more dancing from room to room.
There’s no more talking in a British accent.
No sleepover plans to be made.
Her phone is silent. No more pings and dings.
There’s no more late night talks on my bed after a burst into my room with “You awake Mom?”
What do I miss the most? Every. Little. Thing.