Caring for Holly, then afterward preparing for her funeral kept me distracted, busy, in project management mode. Now my system has reset to reflection, which is a sad place to dwell.
I wake each morning wishing I had a visit from Holly, perhaps through a reassuring dream that doesn’t come. When I wake I suddenly feel the weight of my heart, which has become so heavy. I feel the tears that automatically stream down my checks. I usually reach for my copy of Jesus Calling by Sarah Young that was given to me by a friend. The daily devotion sometimes soothes my soul and I can move, sometimes it’s not enough.
I really won’t see her, feel her, or hear her voice again in this life. The shocking truth of it creeps in. How can it still be shocking? I had months to adjust to the idea, but it seems my heart refused to be prepared.
I’m heartbroken, paralyzed with sadness. I know me however, and I will get up, get dressed, put one foot in front of the other and move forward. I will to honor Holly, to honor God, to honor me in a sense. I’m determined to be more, do more for her….and also for the people who are fighting the same fight today – sleeping on a couch in Levine’s Children’s Hospital; looking upon their child who is but a shadow of their former self.