a mothers love..

Thanksgiving.

A day meant to be full of gratitude and food and family.. But see its that last part  that really ruins all the rest of it..

Because my family is incomplete.

There is a empty seat at the table..

 

post turkey nap with Daddy
post turkey nap with Daddy

I guess I imagined by year 3 I would be grown a thicker skin against it.. An emotional callus.

Our last year with her.. we had done the glitter photo shoot a few days prior.. By the end of Thanksgiving our whole family was covered in glitter...
Our last year with her.. we had done the glitter photo shoot a few days prior.. By the end of Thanksgiving our whole family was covered in glitter…Watch the shoot here.. 

But I haven’t. And somehow this year I feel so much lonelier with it. Like its not supposed to be this way and I am doing something wrong. Like I am not allowed to or supposed to miss Jennifer so much.

But I do. No more. But also no less than I did the very first year. ..

The thing that’s changed is the intensity of it. Because year one I was accustomed to the daily onslaught of the pain of her absence. Now. Now I get respite from it.

Missing her, it’s always there but now its more like the background music .. These holidays when the volume of my grief gets turned on full blast, its deafening. 

I want people to know that. To understand that. . That subsequent years are in that sense harder.. Because the sadness can pull you right back down to a very dark place.. One that I climbed my way out of without even fully realizing I was doing it .. so going back to it is scary. And lonely … because I feel like nobody knows I am down here. ..

But I am.

Year one I was supposed to share the meal with my 7 year old.. and this year I am supposed to be sharing it with my 9 year old. Really that’s all that’s changed.. the age she is supposed to be..

Just like my love has grown and deepened for my living children over the past 3 years .. it has for Jennifer as well.

Because she is my child and this is a mothers love.

the pain of missing you

is just my love

in action.

and I am grateful for it.

1-117

…until there is a cure.

5 Responses to “a mothers love..”

  1. I don’t know what to say, but I had to write something to let you know that I’m still here. I want you to know I say Jennifer’s name everyday, because she changed me. A perfect stranger, that much. Much love to you Libby and your beautiful family. 💖

  2. Yes, I’m feeling the same way….I’m hit with a deep sadness, and I almost feel like I shouldn’t be…..5 years…..I feel like my skin should be tougher too. Well….it’s not. In so many ways, it just becomes deeper…..that hole in our hearts.

  3. It’s is so true, so real, so unbelievably unfair, but such is this life…. This start of the Holiday season leave such an ache in my gut, an ache that I read in your words. You understand, you set your feelings free in words that you need to know help those of us out here grieving too. I hope our girls are free and happy and dancing with the angels, but more I wish they were still here with us. So, until that day we go on, live for our other children, make the best of this life we live. I get it. I hate that I get it. The empty chair, the candle we light, the guilt we feel for being happy. It’s that I am grateful and still so very sad at the same time. Welcome the Holidays… ugh. I think of you daily, and I pray that somehow tomorrow brings a little breath of relief. I think I may just have to add some glitter to my life today 🙂 to honor your girl. Sweet Jennifer.

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