Excerpt from Sarah's journal
Today marks six months since you died, baby girl. Six months since I've held you, kissed your cheeks, your tiny little palms, the soles of your little feet. Six months since I've heard you laugh, or cry, or sing. Six months since I've granted one of your crazy requests, or made a strange meal or done anything for you. Doesn't seem like anytime at all, and yet it has been a lifetime. It all seems like a dream, a beautiful dream that belongs to someone else, our time together. I have to remind myself sometimes that you were here. You did exist.
If I am any better than I was, it is solely your doing. What have I been doing in all this time without you? Nothing of significance. I have cried, every day. Sometimes only for a few moments, if I can help it; but sometimes, I just can't. I know you're in a better place, you're where we all want to be, blah blah blah. But there is that selfish part, that human part, that hole in me that still aches for you. Here or there, I just want to be with you, and I can't right now, and that hurts.
I think I'm doing okay. I think I'm getting better. It's hard to tell sometimes, and I'm hardly the best judge for it. But everyone says I'm holding up "remarkably well," because I'm not visibly falling apart;because I haven't killed myself, or become a raging alcoholic, or a drug addict, or found some other way to destroy myself. But none of that would be honoring you.
Through your eyes I learned to see myself, see the world, from a different perspective. You loved me so much, as much as I love you, which says a lot, and better than I deserved most days. I tried, baby girl. I tried so hard to be the mother that you needed and that you deserved, the best mother I knew how to be at the time. I am sorry for all of the ways that I failed you, for all of the ways that I fell short. Still, you knew that you were loved; you felt it, you exuded it, you demonstrated it with others, so I know I taught you well.
You left because you were done here. In five short years, you learned everything that the rest of us are still trying to learn. There were many earthly experiences you never got to have, but perhaps that's because you didn't need them. Experience is how we learn, how our spirit grows, and you already knew, your soul was already enlightened. You stayed longer than you needed to for my sake, I know that now. I needed you, and so you stayed. I must be worth more than I think if you would delay Heaven just to stay with me.
Six months since that day, little girl, when you left us for good. And yet, you're still here. I can feel you, even almost hear you sometimes.
You were so smart. My little genius! You'd be in school now, if you had stayed. Probably fully reading by now. You were just starting to when you died.
I am so lonely without you, little girl! My entire world has disappeared, and now it's just me. For the first time ever, I have to live my life for only me. I don't like it. I've spent so many years living for everyone else, and when you came, you were my heart's desire fulfilled. All I ever wanted out of life was you. For five years I had you, and it was the best five years of my life, in spite of everything, because I had you. You were the most amazing child anyone could have ever asked for, and I am so grateful that you picked me to be your mother. You could have chosen anyone. Someone better equipped, someone who had a better idea of what they were doing. But you picked me, and for five years, you made me so unconscionably happy. Now, I have to forge a new path, on my own.
I am not angry at you for leaving. I know you stayed as long as you could, you even stayed longer because I wasn't ready to let you go. I am sad. Devastated, despondent, desolate, those words are more accurate. I miss you so much! The people who were supposed to stand by me are nowhere to be found, but I am not without support. I don't know what I would do without my family and friends. I'm sure you had something to do with bringing them back into my life, so that I wouldn't be alone. We took care of each other, always, you and I. Wherever you are, I know you're still taking care of me.
As a mother, my heart aches that you no longer need me to take care of you. But I can love you. That, I can do. I can still love you, as much as I ever did and more, and hope that it crosses whatever distance there is to find you well, happy and safe.
I love you more than dummy bears, baby girl.