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September

person marking his calendar

Oh September, how I despise you now.  Once, you represented a beautiful season of life to me, but now I dread seeing you on my calendar.  Once you were a month full of back to school routines, Labor Day fun, fall festival planning, and anniversary trips.  Now, the sense of dread I feel as you approach makes my stomach turn in knots.  I don’t usually feel such animosity towards things, but I can’t help myself as I am taken back to our loss and the day that my heart was torn in pieces.

How can it be 2 whole years without our girl?  730 days of waking up and remembering that she’s gone.  730 days… but her hospital bag is still packed and sitting by my bed.  It still feels like yesterday.  I’m still not used to being here without her.  I can’t imagine that I ever will be.  September, why was this her time to go? 

Her high school class is now seniors.  As I am starting to see all of their senior pictures and plans for their futures, it’s easy to celebrate with them, because they are all amazing young adults; but… it still hurts.  I wonder what she looks like in heaven.  730 days and I’ve only seen her once in a dream and she never looked at me or spoke.  I don’t think it was really her.  Other people have shared their dreams of her with me, which I am always so grateful for.  I just want to hear her giggle and say “Mom! It’s been 730 days without hearing her.

September, you always signaled to me that change was coming and this time you really meant it.  So much is different now. I was so comfortable with how things were.  I still can’t get comfortable with this new normal.  There’s no rest for a momma when her child is missing.  Sure, we try to fill our days with a routine, but something is always “off.”  This change was not welcomed and I can’t seem to adapt. All I can do is put one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward. Sometimes though, especially on September 5th, I just can’t.

September, you make the days shorter, but the nights are becoming longer.  I don’t like the night.  That’s when I miss her the most.  My eyes still fill with tears often as I lay awake and miss her and my memory still replays the trauma of our loss.  My favorite time is the morning.  I’m eager in the mornings to spend time reading and studying.  It’s also safe to turn on my worship music because Chad and Libby have to wake up any way. That’s where I feel closest to heaven.

September, none of this is your fault.  It’s just the way that it’s going to be.  I don’t know any way around you or September 5th…  If I did, I’d certainly take it.  I’m not sure how many September 5ths I’ll have to endure before I’m reunited with Sarah.  All I know is every night before I fall asleep, I tell myself I’m one day closer to heaven.  Until then, I’ll keep asking to dream about her and I’ll keep looking for ways to remember her all year long, not just in September. 

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