Days to Remember

As Cara's anniversary comes up, I find myself in a state of disbelief. I feel numb again and in shock. Could it really already be a year? She is supposed to be here. She is supposed to be one year old on March 18, not gone. How can this be?

Many people at Compassionate Friends have often said the second year after their child's death is harder than the first. I'm starting to understand why this is so. For me, this past year was our first year without Cara. It was our first spring without Cara, our first summer, fall, winter, Christmas...And in many ways, we experienced those firsts in a state of shock and numbness to the harsh reality that Cara is gone. We experienced the pain of not having Cara here, but the finality of it all took months to start to set in.

So, after March 18, we move to it being every season, every holiday, and every life experience without Cara. The firsts are gone, now every is here. The finality of a life without Cara weighs heavy on our hearts.

Tonight, as I was doing dishes and cleaning up dinner, I found myself wishing that no one had to experience death. Why do people have to go through the hell of a living a life without someone they love? Death is the most awful, broken, painful thing in this world. I just wish it wasn't a cruel reality on this earth. I wish that people didn't have to die because of cancer. I wish that the world would not have to lose another baby to SIDs or stillbirth.

Cynthia and I are walking slowly through these days leading up to Cara's death. It's a quiet, slow, painful walk filled with tears and memories.

We love you, Cara...we miss you so much, baby girl.