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Monday, July 21, 2014

Two years later

Tomorrow is Charlotte's second birthday.  It doesn't seem possible.  I sit here in my office. Mia is napping.  Ethan is not quite quietly playing in the pack and play behind me.  The box of Charlotte's things is on a shelf three feet away.  I don't know how to feel.

I don't know why or how, but I'm overcome again with frustration and anger that people don't care.  One of my sister's friends (who was old) died on Saturday, and I sent her flowers.  My daughter died.

My daughter died.

My daughter died.

Typing it is so strange, still, two years later.

My daughter died.

I am still surprised and hurt that no one sent us flowers.  I am still surprised that no one ever asks about her.  I am still surprised and everything that followed.

I never got to mourn my child.  Not really.  There was no funeral.  No pretty words.  No flowers.  It was as if she never happened.  She did, though.  She was my daughter.

It surprises me how much I am still angry at everyone.  I would have thought that by now I would be different...or indifferent.

My mom mentioned it today when I saw her.  As she was leaving, she said tomorrow would be hard.  It's the 22nd.  She was a little teary.  It made me mad.  I know that's illogical....but you don't get to be sad and cry.  I don't want to comfort you.  You were supposed to comfort me. She was MY daughter.  When I wanted to be sad and cry you WEREN'T THERE FOR ME.  It's not fair to get sad now when I'm trying so hard to celebrate her.

That's what tomorrow is supposed to be.  It's supposed to be a celebration of Charlotte's life and her influence on her family. My family.  Ethan is sitting in a pack and play behind me right now because of Charlotte.  No matter how much I wish it could have been different for her, Ethan wouldn't be here if things didn't happen the way they did.  I can't be sorry Ethan's here.  He's beautiful and perfect and so very, very sweet.  His sister had to die for him to be here.  It's still so hard to put a finger on that emotion.  Bittersweet doesn't cover it, but it's somewhere in that zone.

I always feel like it's not enough.  What we do to celebrate her is not enough.  Tomorrow is such a...such  A sad day.  A happy day.  It's a celebration.  Charlotte is my daughter.  I miss her all the time, and I always will...but her life was special.  I have to stop crying and celebrate.  It's hard to remember that I'm thankful sometimes.

I looked into planting something in my front flower bed that attracts butterflies.  I want to see more butterflies.  When Mia sees a butterfly now, she talks about Charlotte.  She doesn't really get it, still.  She keeps saying she wants to see Charlotte and asking where Charlotte is.  I tell her that Charlotte's always around, but we can't see her.  I tell her that Charlotte sends butterflies to let us know she's near.  That's a hard concept for a three year old.

This was really disjointed.  I feel disjointed.  That's why I'm writing again.  I know it's been a long time since I've written...and I'm fairly certain that no one will read this.  Still...I needed to talk to someone.  Even if someone is no one.

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