A Letter to Heaven-October 8th

Until three years ago, this day held no significance. I hate this day. I find myself trying to remember what life was like on October 7, 2015. Can’t. I have a photo memory to remind me though. I dressed Presley in grey sweatpants and a grey hoodie. I bundled my other two up and loaded them into the double stroller. I took a photo at the bus stop and captioned it “My little girl is so grown up!”. That photo drew 32 likes on Facebook. You were one of them.

The 7th of October was insignificant. I cannot remember what we did that day when we returned from the bus stop. I do not know what we ate for lunch. I do not know what mood I was in or whether my kids were agreeable or not. That day was a normal day. WAS insignificant. It was the last day.

October 8th…I hate this day. This day, three years ago, I remember every single detail of. The weather was cloudy. There was a chill in the air, but not enough to need a jacket. I wore only a sweatshirt. There were yellow leaves collecting on my sidewalk. I can remember the sound they made as I stepped over them. I remember the feel of the carpet under my cheeks as I lay on the basement floor. I can recall every excruciating detail associated with that day. I know I share that with many.

Death is so cruel. It robs you of yourself. It replaces you with a lesser version, a person who is not and will never again be whole. It weakens every fiber of your being. It makes you question everything. It fills you with regret. So much regret. Nothing is as it was. It makes you struggle to remember, every hug, every laugh, every memory. And yet, you try to forget, to forget every argument, every unkind word. Regret. So much was lost. Love remains. Grief is the most unfortunate expression of love.

Two nights ago, I had a dream. I was holding your hands. You were very sullen with tear filled eyes. I was apologizing to you, telling you “I am so sorry.” You had red nail polish on your fingers. Your hands felt exactly the same. In the dream, you told me “I don’t know how much longer we will be together.” I have had many dreams about you, but this one, this one was a reminder of the loss we (all of us who knew and loved you) suffered on this day three years ago.

Three years. Time is not a cure-all. Death leaves scars that even time cannot heal. Time cannot fill the void or erase the emptiness. Time is just time. Another minute, another hour, another day that I miss you, another moment that you are missing from me. Still, love remains. Time does grant us one thing, it gets us closer to our reunion. I couldn’t even begin to describe the impact you had on my life. I am forever grateful to have known you. Blessed I am to have grown with you, beside you, to have called you my best friend for 26 years. Thankful I am to have had you by my side through it all. I know I will get to hold onto you again one day. And I promise you this, when that day comes, I am not letting go. I’ll be seeing you beautiful girl.

Love Always,

Kimberly