“‘I had a brother,’ they’ll say. Perhaps he’ll tell people about that morning, watching us screaming over his brother’s body. Or maybe he’ll hold that in his memories quietly, to spare others that sadness.”
- Love What Matters
- Children
“‘I had a brother,’ they’ll say. Perhaps he’ll tell people about that morning, watching us screaming over his brother’s body. Or maybe he’ll hold that in his memories quietly, to spare others that sadness.”
“We had 5 kids and had just celebrated 6 years of marriage. Our entire life crashed, the walls built with facades and fantasies. I was secretly dying inside. It was silent, painful. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I’d be taking family photos without a husband, my children’s father.”
“I was 12 when I met the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I noticed a tall, skinny, blue eyed girl with curly blonde hair and a smile that could light up the world. It was 10:45 p.m. when I heard the words ‘Ashley’s gone. She’s dead.’ Ashley was so skinny, she flew out of her seatbelt and was thrown into the back seat of her car.”
“Her eyes turned dead and hateful, and she began laughing at things that weren’t funny. If she was forced to make a decision as simple as what shirt to wear, she would rage and scream, ‘I DON’T KNOW!!!’ I had to explain to her 5-year-old sister why her sibling didn’t want to play with her anymore. ‘She’s very sick right now.’ It started as the flu, but my instincts knew better.”
“Our midwife came in and hugged me. ‘How are y’all doing?,’ she asked. It was all too much. What did she mean by ‘abnormalities?’ I stopped her and asked. That’s when the rest of the conversation disappeared from my memory. I would NEVER let this define Nolan.”
“Out of the blue, one early morning, my daughter asked me, ‘Do you miss Meema?’ Just hearing her name is enough to stop me in my tracks. ‘Of course, I miss her,’ I replied. ‘What do you miss?’ She asked. ‘I miss her here.’ I said. My heart felt heavy.”
“I catch a glimpse of you when I look at myself in the mirror. It takes my breath away at first. You died six weeks too soon.”
“We were sitting around the dinner table sharing our ‘highs and lows’ of the day. Everyone was laughing. It felt like such a good meal conversation. It was Sawyer’s turn to share his high and low. ‘Alright buddy, you’re up.’ It got quiet.”
“They kept calling her ‘ugly and black’. At first, she wasn’t afraid. But it got to the point where too many were joining in and it became a daily occurrence. During the drive, I prayed for a miracle as my son slept behind me. I just wanted to see her. To make sure she would be okay. But I’d never get to see her alive again. Now the only way I can ever be with her again is at a grave site. McKenzie Adams. I will not let here name die.”
“The timer went off. I patted my belly. ‘You did it! Well done!’ It was time to take the first step in doing what I’d been thinking about for quite some time. When the nurse walked in with those papers, I went straight to the bathroom and sobbed. I walked toward the dreaded exit. I had to say goodbye.”