Terrie, Donor

Some days it feels like no time has passed at all...

This is just a small portion of my journey so far. There are so many roads in life and some things are just a bend we must follow, while others are the forks we choose to take.

2 years, 6 months and 26 days…
134 weeks and 3 days…
941 days…
22,584 hours…
1,355,040 minutes…
81,302,400 seconds…
Without you.

Without the hugs, advice and laughter. No more playing guess that song and headbanging to Ozzy. I’ll never hear your voice again or see you looking back at me.

It’s amazing that it’s been that long, yet some days it feels like no time has passed at all. I still haven’t quite picked up all the pieces, and I think even if I do, they won’t fit the same.

It’s always interesting watching the different responses from each new person when it gets brought up. And you’re so much a part of who I am that it comes up surprisingly often. Sometimes easily. Other times it feels like I’m breaking all over again.

I’ve pretty much narrowed it down to three different reactions:

The first are those that share in that fragile moment. They’re the ones who truly know exactly what I’m going through every day. Like we’re part of a club with a very steep entrance fee that none of us wanted to be in. We’ve parted with the person who gave us life. Accepted that the heartbeat that was our first lullaby for 9 months has ceased beating. There is always a connection with these strong people. And they are strong. They’ve realized that it doesn’t really get easier. It just becomes a part of who you are. And some of the people I’ve met have been missing their mom for 10, 20, 30 years. I’ve only had to do it for 2 years, 6 months and 26 days so far. These are the only people that understand how completely shattered I was the day you went home.

Then there are those few that think grief has an expiration date. These are the hardest to get through. These are the reactions that I resented the most. These are the people I’m learning to just smile and nod at.