In the 3 weeks that have passed since Harper gained her wings, I have struggled to know what to write.
When things were happening with Harper over the past 18 months, writing on this blog was therapy for me. It was an outlet. A way to communicate not just facts, but emotions I was experiencing - and releasing them and sharing them helped.
But now I don't know what to write. The world is moving so much slower now. And things that happen seem so much less worthy of words and emotions to express them.
I have started countless blog posts in my head, only to have them flatten and fall apart as I try to put the structure around them. The ideas seem viable at the moment they occur to me, but quickly fade and lose their color and my ambition recedes.
Life has moved on. The sun has risen. The sun has set. Cadence and Finley have gone to school. I've gone to work.
We've laughed at times. We've cried at others. We've seen Harper in books, sunshine and sunsets, and rainbows.
We've even played - ice skating as a family - a family of four. There was smiling and laughing and falling.
And through it all, it has hurt. No matter what, it has hurt.
Sometimes it hurts more than other times. Sometimes I can distract myself with tasks, or music, or friends or alcohol.
But sometimes, when it's quiet, and I'm still - I can't prevent my mind from wandering to the painful images - and the numbing cover comes off - and it hurts.
I know it will get better - slowly. I've been told that, I've told myself that and I've told others that. I want it to get better - but then again, I don't.
Hurting means I haven't forgotten. Hurting means I still love her. Hurting means I miss her.
But I cover it back up. Pat it down, shake my head, and go on about my daily life.
Smile at this person. Greet that person. Yeah, I'm doing ok. I'm here.
But it still hurts. And its going to hurt for a long, long time.
I don't think I'm ever going to get over it - just learn to keep it covered and only take that cover off when I have the strength to endure the raw pain.
I wish I had more uplifting things to say. I wish I had encouragement for all those who shared in Harper's life and are feeling this same pain - but I don't.
It's just going to hurt.
Sometimes, a person just needs to be heard. The thought of getting over a loss, can sometimes feel like the experience is going to be over. Like a betrayal. Or, that person is really gone. Or worse, that they're just a memory. To hurt, is to experience that person as if they were still here. And, all of that is fine.
ReplyDeleteBrian, you don't know me, I'm just one of many Humana employees. I've been following your posts religiously. I can't even begin to imagine what you have been going through. My heart has gone to you and your family more times than I can count. I cried more times than I care to admit, but it is not even close to what you have been going through. I hope that you find some comfort knowing that you and your family and especially Harper are my daily inspiration! I choose Joy every day because of Harper. Harper has changed lives of many people for the better. Harper has taught us how to appreciate what we have and how to treasure it, instead of taking it for granted. Harper has inspired many people and will continue inspiring many more. Harper has been an angel on Earth and now she is an Angel in Heaven! I hope and pray that you and your family find some comfort in knowing that little Harper has made such a big difference in many people's lives. She is amongst us, helping us, guiding us, teaching us! May God bless you and your family!
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