The adorable girl in this photo grew up, married my Daddy, and birthed my sister and me. Our son has her chin. (I always wanted that dern cleft chin when I was a little girl, as well as her blue eyes.) I have her laugh. I have her hands. I have the same exact texture of her hair.
She mattered. She was here, and she should still be here.
I have struggled for weeks about this book thing. I wonder if putting all I've written over these years on my own grief into a book is worth anything at all. I wonder if it's worth my time and effort. I wonder if anyone other than my friends (hopefully them, at least!) will even want a copy of it. I wonder if really, truly, it even needs to be done. I wonder if the different way I view grief is just all wrong...because usually people tell me that it is. I've been told many times that I'm seeing God and grief all wrong. *Maybe I am...but it is just how I'm wired, and I can't change it...believe me, I've tried.* I even thought of making a list of pros and cons.......but I kept coming up with millions of reasons not to, and only one reason to actually continue.
The reason I keep coming back to, the only one I am one hundred percent sure of, is her.
I know that as I pour out my heart in one of the only ways I know how, writing and writing and writing about this grief...she'd believe in me. And I believe she still does. There's no way in the world I can explain it, but I do know it...she still does believe in me...even now. Even as I live through all my days, and her absence looms over everything.
So maybe for myself, as well? I'm not sure. Maybe.
This is not an easy task, it is quite draining. *But grief is like that....it can drain you, even on your best days. Because grief does not discriminate.*
So for tonight...I will continue.
Because this little girl existed, and still exists.......and her absence in my life will continue to affect me, because this is my Momma. I am my Momma's daughter....even in her absence.
