Emotions are Worth a Thousand Words

There are over 200,000 words in the dictionary and yet sometimes I find it hard to come up with one to describe what it is like to live day to day without my child. Everyday is different and deserves a different word for that day. Many of my days I have decided that I am just numb to it all. I am detached at times, content some days. So many emotions can happen in just a single day I can go from joyful and content to distant and in a fog. These days I am just feeling empty and numb. I am on edge and anxious. My heart aches and my mind is forgetful. I am distant and discombobulated. I am thankful for the time I had, but broken from the things I am missing. I am tired of feeling this way just plain tired of watching everyone around me get what I should have. I am jealous and envious of those that get to watch their children grow and reach milestones. There are so many words to try and describe what it is like but none of them can do justice to the pain that losing a child brings.

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My treasured last week

Today I have been reflecting on the last week I had with Mckenna. It seems like I can recall every detail of the last week I had her in my arms and thought I would share my last week. My last day with Mckenna Sat Sept 20th : Billy had Mckenna that weekend but left her with Tammy to come move our stuff into storage. I missed her but thankful to have someone to watch her while we moved MOST of our stuff. Sun Sept 21st, 2008 : I worked that day and couldn't wait to get off work because I was getting Mckenna back. Billy dropped her off at my work I waited with her outside for Mare to get done because we rode together. She was happy to see her mommy. Mon Sept 22nd, 2008 : I had started this class at Pheonix college for my CCT at work so I could draw blood and put in and take out foley's. Mare couldn't watch her that day so my friend Lisa took the day off work to watch her for me. I had to wake up extra early to get ready just in case Mckenna was up earlier ...

Closing the Book of my Childhood...

Growing up I went to my Nana and Papa's house frequently. She would keep us weeks at a time in the summers. Nana was for a grandmother but also didn't take any back talk or attitude. When I was 10 years old, I moved in with Nana and Papa. My room was downstairs, without a door and had the washer and dryer in the room. Eventually they put on saloon like doors for a little privacy. I lived there until I turned 13. Big years living with your grandparents. Vital years really, but I wouldn't have had it any other way. I always felt connected to my Nana. We were a lot a like. I still wonder what she would think of me now and how I turned out. I would help around the property, help plant cactus (and laugh hysterically together after because we were so sweaty and gross), helped feed the animals, water the trees, water the plants, ride my bike all the time. I actually played out doors every day. Sometimes I was allowed to eat ice cream for dinner when no one wanted to c...

Fight for Your Healing

Not long ago one of my soul sister friends said to me, fight for your healing. This has been weighing heavy on my heart lately because I have not been fighting for my healing. Those who know me very well know that I am kind of a melancholy person. I have always been this way even as a child. I guess maybe I was born this way and when you are born with a certain personality trait it is hard to be anything else. I may not be able to fully get rid of the inner melancholy but I can at least try and find things that bring me out of my shell, things that make me laugh, things that require me to step outside of my comfort zone. Sitting in my room by myself all the time is not healthy (yes I still do this). Darkness continues to fall upon me more often than not. The older I get the harder it is to wade through the dark to find the light. I try and allow it to come and go but when it comes so frequently I become discouraged and disappointed in myself causing the cyc...

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