June 21st 2019
My Dearest Emma,
It’s been 3 years since you left us. I remember every second of that day. When I woke up that morning, I had no idea that you would die later that night, in the wee small hours of the summer solstice, June 21st with a strawberry full moon. I know you chose that day. I could hear it in my head over and over again, two one, two one. So why did it come as a surprise? Because I was willing you to live longer. To awaken and tell us this was all just a bad dream.
That didn’t happen. You quietly and peacefully slipped away from us. Away from your body and out into the mornings light. I could see you and feel you go. You swirled around your baby dogwood tree for a while, maybe dancing in the joyfulness of your new freedom of movement and then you drifted away from us to go explore your new world.
You made us promise we would be ‘ok’ again. And it’s not that we haven’t tried to live up to that, but it’s not that easy. Life is much harder than I expected since you died. Losing you was like having all the air sucked out of me and having to learn how to breathe again …sometimes not wanting to take that breath.
And now on the 3rd anniversary of your death. I don’t know what we will do. I don’t know how I will feel. But I do know I’m still not ‘ok’ with it. That I’m not ‘ok’.
I’m still light years away from being ‘ok’ with your death. But I am trying. I think being ok will come on my death bed when I know that I will get to see you again.
And what a reunion that will be.
All my love,
My journal entry speaks for itself. I was still heartbroken, raw, but starting to have movement forward. My heart was just starting to realize Emma wasn’t coming back, three years on.