Mornings are lonely without you. Daddy and I wake up, take showers, make coffee and sit around. We are so programmed to get you up, ready for school, prepare your favorite oatmeal breakfast, do your hair and send you off to school with Miss Kimberly.
I look in your bedroom each morning and do the “what if” thing in my head. I play out the sounds I heard on the video monitor in my head and think about whether or not I second guessed myself that morning. It crushes me. I’m sorry, Livy. I should have come in your bedroom earlier that morning.
Grieving is strange. Everyone around me knows that I’m hurting, but no one wants to bring it up. Maybe that’s just part of the typical process. The weirdest part is I love talking about you and all that you’ve been up to, but now when I talk about you I don’t know what to say. I think that’s why some people just avoid it. For the record, that doesn’t make me feel better.Especially when I’m this sensitive.
I’ve noticed that one of the most difficult things for me to do since you left is post photos. I’m a photoholic and I love sharing photos of you and your brother. These days I can’t seem to share anything that represents our family. I actually feel guilty for wanting to take pictures because you’re not in them.
I haven’t found the right grieving group to join yet, but I’m still looking. Maybe that kind of support is what I need to understand this process.
I miss you.