Almost 3 years. I said those words aloud to another DIPG parent last week, a Dad just starting out on their journey.. and I haven’t been able to shake it. ..
Its been almost 3 years since I last held my daughter. Since I last smoothed the hair from her face.. And whispered in ears.. Almost 3 years since I felt her slight weight in my arms…
I wonder. So much I wonder if I helped her. If I said the right things to her.. I wonder if she felt safe.. if she was angry?
Was she scared?
were you scared baby?
I don’t know how to not let the slow onslaught of questions overtake me. I am trying. I am really trying to stay above.. but the waters are rising. . A slow and constant pounding … a steady and growing swell of grief is swirling around me.. higher and higher..
Just like the weather we are having here.. dangerous not because of a sudden and powerful amount.. but because of the unrelenting nature of the rain..
I am holding my breath.. because I know the water will only continue to rise.
I told her so much those last 36 hours that I held her.. that I talked to her.. Did I say the right things? Did she have question I wasn’t answering?
She hadn’t spoken for awhile.. at least a week. But we communicated. I know that. I do .. I know that. ..
Heart to heart and soul to soul. Such beauty in it. .
I am grateful for that because it paved the way to teach me how to hear my soul now
..these moments … as I succumb to my grief .. I question it all. I question everything.. And I am so scared. ..
thank you for letting me be awake when you left.. one less question to haunt me..
I am her mom. I was supposed to protect her. She trusted me to protect her. I failed. The purest role of motherhood. I failed.
I know we communicated.. And I know she hurt. I know she was scared. .. And I will never ever forgive myself for that.
3 years since you felt pain
3 years into my pain.
…until there is a cure..