These were random thoughts that I had scribbled down shortly after she died. Pretty much all of this stands true today. 363 days later. She lived. She loved.
Her brand new lunch bag still hangs on the hook in our kitchen.
Her backpack remains on the kitchen hook somewhat filled and ready for the first day of Freshman year.
Her Sperries are still on the shoe rack.
Her Pjs are laying right in the spot she left them that morning.
Her dance bag is packed and in her closet. She put it there 7/31 for practice on 8/2.
Her subscription to Horse Rider magazine still comes in the mail.
As does the American girl catalog…she was never too old to see what was new.
The back to school clothes we ordered together from Old Navy sit in the packages on her bedroom floor.
The Tie Dye supplies she bought at Michaels to do shirts with her friends still lie in her room in the bag.
There is still 1 dirty laundry basket in the basement that has some of her clothes in the bottom.
I will never wash them.
The rest of the baskets have been gently cleared out of her dirty clothes and placed in a rubbermaid bin.
Her phone, I charge it every once in awhile. Knowing someday I will want to go through her photos. Curious what the last picture she took is.
Journals aplenty. Her precious thoughts recorded. Her doodles. Yet ending with empty pages. Reminding me of a semicolon: used when an author could’ve chosen to end their sentence, but chose not to. The author is her and the sentence is her life. Her story is left unfinished. In Michelle’s words: Words left unsaid.
Our house is filled with reminders and memories. I wouldn’t want it any other way. Sometimes comforting. Sometimes heartbreaking.
But isn’t that what everyone’s life is like? Sometimes we are comforted. Sometimes our hearts are breaking.
She lived. She loved. Her story on earth was not finished. But I’ve no doubt God is letting her continue it in heaven.
Fly high my sweet, sweet girl.
Until we meet again.