Originally posted January 13, 2016
Yesterday marked 6 months since the accident. Half a year, yet almost a lifetime. A day of many memories.
So many places, songs, dates, and even foods remind me of Colin and Madeline. Their memories are tied to most everything in my life. It can bring joy to my heart and tears to my eyes when I think of each of them throughout the day. My favourites are the ones that make the boys and I laugh out loud.
And surprisingly, these memories are not usually the things that trigger sadness and hurt. The pain and ache often comes when I think of all that I had anticipated for our future.
The things I wanted to do with Madeline, and the close relationship that was growing between her and her brothers. Witnessing the adoration between Madeline and her daddy, or Colin teaching his boys how to be men. Parenting and growing old together with the man I love.
Many of these dreams were simple everyday occurrences to fit in with our simple life. Yet all were things I had hoped for and pondered. Some were more poignant and anticipated than others, but still are things that I now must lose as well. And re-lose, each time I stumble upon a reminder or see someone else living my dream.
Which I imagine is a large part of the reason why being in Madeline’s room is so unbearable; and the thought of going through her stuff terrifies me. Every drawer and box I go through will be like losing her all over again. Over and over. Like sorting through a graveyard of things most dear to me. Relentless, brutal, scarring, and raw.
I don’t think that my heart is ready for that… But I don’t suppose it ever really will be.