It’s that time. Time to stare at a blank page looking for something profound to write about the last year of my life. Some piece of wordsmith that proves the last year of my life was full of meaning and didn’t feel like any other year. I want to write about the amazing steps I have taken to get over the loss. I want to write about all the success I had this last year because of the move to Nashville. I wish that I could write lines and lines of news over how bright the future looks for Maggie and myself. I wish with all that I am that this is what I could tell you.
The last two weeks have been some kind of crazy around here. I sat here at the computer the other night tearing up and then bursting almost uncontrollably into tears, sobbing, searching for the reason. The reasons ran the gamut of the events of the last year of my life and all of sudden it all came to a head. It played out like a bad movie culminating in the sudden recognition that Maggie was finishing first grade and I couldn’t tell you where the last 7 years went.
My heart crashed and felt like it weighed 20 pounds inside my chest. It pushed and struggled, trying to pound while someone was stepping on it. The reaction was completely visceral; it felt primitive and out of control. Everyday since that moment has been spent the same way; I get up in the morning take Maggie to school and drive the two lane road home lost in my thoughts not even looking at the road in front of me. Each time the same thought over and over again, “would this all be the same if she was still here?” Daily I miss her. Daily I think about what would have been. Daily I look for answers on this short ride home. Daily I just can’t understand the plan and when we are going to move to the next part of the plan.
“I have a plan, do you trust me?”
It is a sign written in my heart and this sign has been beat, shot at, weathered by the storm almost unreadable now hanging by only one link in the chain. It squeaks and chirps as the wind sways it back and forth trying to make it fall to the earth. With an unsure future ahead I am still waiting for the plan. Each day get’s harder and harder to smile and be joyful about this life.
Maggie recently found the photo books I made for her for years 1-3. I need to catch up with 4-7, but that is another story. Everyday she takes those books out and pours over the pictures, year one being her favorite. She looks at the first set of pages with Jennifer and she asks questions as she studies each pictures. She tells me how much she misses her. She tells me how beautiful she is. She asks me how much did she love me? Each question hurts so badly. My heart hurts for my loss, but mostly because of her loss. She is beginning to feel the pain of losing her mother and not having that figure in her life. She understands now what she would have had and what she is missing out on. As hard as I try, I will never be her mother and will never fully fill that missing role in her life.
I’m 45 now and before I know it, she will be walking across the stage getting her diploma and I’ll be asking the same question, “Where did the time go?” In 365 days I will be starring at this blank page and I so want to write something different. I don’t want to write about how I miss her every single day. I don’t want to write about not knowing what God’s plan is for Maggie and me. I don’t want to write about my doubts. In 365 days I want to talk about how one year ago everything changed. One year ago, the move to Nashville proved to be the best thing, proved to be God’s plan. One year ago, Maggie started having the best year of her life and she was happy and full of joy. In 365 days when I turn 46 I want to write about the best year ever.