Because . . . it hurts

Sometimes, it hits me like a brick.

Like a fucking huge ass brick that is coming at me 100mph.

My sister is dead.

Shocking . . . to say it like that. So direct. So final.

But it is the truth.

And sometimes, it hits me just like that.

I walked into my house yesterday to this . . . her wedding dress.

In my living room.

My brother-in-law wanted me to have it - in case my girls wanted it for either a part of their own dresses some day, or maybe their babies christening gowns. Or something.

The thought was one of kindness and generosity.

But still, it fucking hit me like a brick.

Today? Why today? And why did my own husband just leave it there for me to see? And why is it such a big deal to me?

Because . . . it hurts.

It hurts every damn day.

It has been 434 days since she passed. (No, I am not keeping a tally going . . . I promise. I just looked it up for this post.) But, it has been 434 days since she passed. And it has hurt for 434 days.

And that, my friends, sucks.

Every day I wake up (and yes, I thank God for that . . . I really do). I shower. I put on make-up. I do my hair. I go out and try to make it a good day. But every day, I am changed. And I cannot figure out who I am supposed to be right now. All I know - is that this is not how it was supposed to be. She was my person. And she was supposed to be here with me, walking through life, for another 40 years, at least. Through college visits and wedding showers and sitting at the church with me when our daughters say "I do"- passing tissues and crying our eyes out. Through caring for our mother, and some day (God bless her) burying her. Through vacations together and final home sales and baby showers and laughs and joy and tears and pain. And the downs and so many ups of life. She was supposed to be here with me. Through them all.

And she is not.

And my friends, at 434 days out . . . it still sucks more than I can even say.

And I am trying. I am trying so very hard.

But I don't know what this life is supposed to look like without her - and quite frankly - I don't like it one bit.

So for today, I feel the hurt.

I let it come in and I allow myself the feels.

I cry. I dry the tears. I write about it (because I honestly have to). And then I keep going.

Because that is all we can do.

Right?

It hurts. It hurts like fucking hell.

But, I am doing it. Wedding dress and all.

434 and counting.

Lord, give me strength.

Thank you, friends. Much love.

xo