The pain still goes on?

"Before the show ended, Morrie read Koppel one of the letters he'd received. Since the first "Nightline" program, there had been a great deal of mail. One particular letter came from a schoolteacher in Pennsylvania who taught a special class of nine children; every child in the class had suffered the death of a parent.

"Here's what I sent her back," Morrie told Koppel, perching his glasses gingerly on his nose and ears. "Dear Barbara. . . I was very moved by your letter. I feel the work you have done with the children who have lost a parent at an early age . . .'"

Suddenly, the cameras still humming, Morrie adjusted the glasses. He stopped, bit his lip, and began to choke up. Tears fell down his nose. "'I lost my mother when I was a child . . . and it was quite a blow to me . . . I wish I'd had a group like yours where I would have been able to talk about my sorrows. I wouls have joined your group because . . .'"

His voice cracked.

"'. . . because I was lonely. . .'"

"Morrie," Koppel said, "that was seventy years ago when your mother died. The pain still goes on?"

"You bet," Morrie whispered."

Some mornings. . .

"There are some mornings when I cry and cry and mourn for myself. Some mornings, I'm so angry and bitter. But it doesn't last too long. Then I get up and say, 'I want t love...'"

Now What?

"My old professor, meanwhile, was stunned by the normalcy of the day around him. Shouldn't the world stop? Don't they know what has happened to me?

But the world did not stop, it took no notice at all, and as Morrie pulled weakly on the car door, he felt as if he were dropping into a hole.

Now what? he thought."

Year 1

It's been one year. I went to bed last night thinking about Amber and woke up thinking about her, but something was different this morning. I woke up smiling. Not because I love her any less, but because I still love her. I realized something, for this past year I have literally been obsessed with our loss and doing so I have completely overlooked her life.

When we focus on that one tragic day where she was taken away we miss the thousands of days that we were blessed to have her by our side, the millions of memories that she left us with, the smile that we will never be forgotten. I want this to be my new norm. I want to love more and grieve less. I want to remember what it feels like to laugh and not feel guilty.

Life is full of ups and downs. We are fooling ourselves if we think that downs aren't around the corner; when we think we have found some immunity to pain. But we aren't doing any better when become so focused on downs that we no longer see the ups. The new norm has taught me many things. I want to be able to look at days like today and accept the good with bad. Smile if your happy, cry if your sad, but never quit living she would have never wanted that.

time

One year, 12 months, 365 days, 8760 hours, 525600 minutes without her.

There is something daunting about this "anniversary." Our lives are based around time lines, i.e. we've dated for 3 years, we've known each other for 10 years, i graduate in 1 year, I've worked there for 2 years, and she has been gone 1 year. Your supposed to stop counting after a year right? It wouldn't be normal to say, "she's been gone 16 months." That to everyone else would be weird. But really, when you think about someone every single day you don't lose track of time. In fact time is all you have. The time you had with them and the time you will no longer get to spend with them.

In some respect I feel like I've been feeling this way forever, but it also feels like it was just yesterday I received the phone call. In fact, life for me now is known as before Amber died and life after Amber died because they are totally different things. And those who are grieving or have ever grieved know what I am talking about.

I have gotten used to this new normal, but that doesn't mean i like it. I have just learned to live with it. She is gone, I get that, but I don't accept it. So once again, time is the only thing that heals. But how much time are we talking? No one has the answer to that.

What I can tell you is that the void doesn't get smaller, the hurt doesn't lessen, and the love doesn't stop. Some days are better than others. Some days you can find the good in the situation, some you're angry and depressed, and some days you just don't get it. So the stages of grief must fluctuate.

One year isn't long enough to get over her, but its long enough to make her voice harder to hear, her hug harder to feel, and her smell harder to smell.. all of those little things we take for granted in everyday life. But everyday I try to picture her from head to toe to make sure I never forget. I dont think I could ever forget her, but I think its a common fear of those who have lost someone. We have our memories to hold on too and tight we will hold them.

Some things I remember...
1. her laugh
2. chewing her lip
3. her high ponytails and buns
4. jeans and flip flops
4. her tan
5. afrosheen for tanning lotion!
6. cherry chapstick
7. writing on her bedroom walls
8. texting
9. her made bed 24/7
10. putting on makeup together

I could go on and on and on. What a wonderful person she was and what a blessing she was to my life and everyone elses. She was the first to laugh and smile and the last to cry. She loved every story you told her (or at least pretended to) Everything was a big deal to her. She was ALWAYS right. She was amazing.

In time we will get adjusted to life without her, but NEVER will she be forgotten. Everyday there is a reminder of what happiness she brought into our lives. You can only pray and trust in God that he knows what he is doing. My girl made it to heaven in 23 years. If you ask me that's impressive as much as it hurts to be without her. She made it to where we all are trying to get.

Gosh

I Cried Again Today

It's been a while since I broke down. This morning was just too much for me too handle. I cried. As I mentioned before in these blogs one of the hardest parts for me has been these dreams, last night was no exception. I've talked to quite a few people about the grief dreams, some people love them and some do not. I understand the likeable part, it gives you one more chance to see that someone you loved, it feels so real, like they are really in you presence one more time. It makes sense why certain people cherish the dreams. But that first second as you wake up and begin to wonder what's going on, the grogginess still has control of you, reality hasn't set in yet, your reaching for the phone to call them (or feeling around the bed to see where they are.) Then in the following minutes your brain feels it necessary to remind you what the past year of your life has been like. Those are the minutes that I can't handle.

Last night I dreamt that Amber had gone to camp with me, and then my father had showed up. It was so real, like I was being given one last chance to spend with her. The scenic beauty that surrounded us, hearing her laugh at my corny jokes, sitting together making fun of every body. Waking up to reality is so upseting.

Side Note: I'm reading a book right now titled Every Day Deserves A Chance. Good book. It has really been helping a lot. It talks simply about eacha dn every day that we live on this earth is another day that God has made and it deserves the chance to be a good day. But on days like today I wonder if they even have a chance. I wish I could apprecaite those dreams as so many of you out there do. I wish that I could find comfort, but I'm just so selfish.

It's been almost a year and the forecast is still gloomy, the pain isn't any less real. I was told that only time could heal. I'm not sure healing is part of this process. I think its more of a coming to grips with this new normal. Sorry to be so sad, I will make the next blog a postive one.

The New Norm

The thought behind this whole blog was really an exploration of me physically, spiritually, emotionally, and everything in between finding my new norm. When you lose someone close to you, your life shatters that instance. When you decide that you're ready to return to the world (broken and devastated) it's time to start piecing everything back together again. Slowly the grieving process begins. You're confused, hurt, sad. You start searching for answers only to find that your appetite is one that can't be filled. You read the books, you go to the support groups, you do the blogging. You become angry, the resentment sets in, you start to ask God why, at times you blame God. Throughout this past almost year it has been one crazy installment to my so called life. I wish I had answers to everyone's questions, I wish I had words of encouragement for those who are still hurting, I wish I could be a light to those searching in the darkness.

But this is the new norm whether you like or not. Your choices are limited. You either choose to keep going or you can quit. Seeing people quit around me has been one of the most difficult parts of the entire process. Throughout the next couple of weeks I want to explore what the new norm is like. For those of you out there who have experienced a loss you know how difficult it can be, how much the new norm can help you appreciate the world around you, the good the bad and the in between that comes with the life you have chosen to go on with.For those of you out there who haven't experienced something like this I hope and pray that you never have to. But the realist in me knows that on a long enough time line disaster is going to enter the picture and when it does I hope this blog and be somewhat a comfort (if any can be found).