December 4, 2011
Hannah passed away at 10:10 pm on Sunday night, December 4th, in my arms after a weekend surrounded by all of her grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and good friends.
Today was the one-year mark since Hannah passed away. I don’t know what word you would call it – I don’t like “angelversary” because any “versary” sounds like a happy achievement. This is anything but.
I tried so hard to make today be “just another day.” But for the past few weeks, leading up to today, it has been tearing at my heart.
I can’t stop reliving that last night. It is so vivid still, as if it just recently happened. I wish the memories of her last night would not be so strong. It is not how I want to remember her, yet I can’t seem to stop reliving it in my mind. That night was so emotionally exhausting…
My daughter died. In my arms. I saw the signs of her body start to shut down … and then she was gone. She was physically still there, but her soul, her spirit was gone. Forever.
I held her for an hour or two after she passed, maybe shorter, I can’t remember. I had such a difficult time letting go of her when the hospice came to take her away. I don’t think I realized then that I would never, ever see her again.
I took today off from work. Spent time at the cemetery getting her grave ready for the holiday and polishing up her marker so it is clean and shiny. Cried…a lot.
I was hoping that after a year it would be easier, and perhaps in some ways it has because I have been able to put up a good face in front of people.
I’m so terribly sad. I miss her so much. I need her back. She truly made me whole… and now I feel forever broken hearted.