Life/Death
How does life go on as usual when death is taking your heart?
My baby, my sweet child, my girl of 28 years, found at 11, died last Wednesday in her sleep. From what. Don't know. Apnea, perhaps. She had gotten to the point that she didn't use her machine very often.
Just. Died. Baby. My. Girl.
I can't ever laugh with her anymore.
We can't reminisce ever again.
We can't share anymore.
My. Heart. Cracking. Sharp. Cold. Abyss.
How did this happen, why did she have to go. ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodohgodithurtsithurtsithurtsohhhohhhohhhohhhh
No Viewing, Her partner isn't having one, how can I say goodbye?
The final goodbye, placing her favorite color purple rose in beside her with a note of who she is, how wonderful she is, how proud I am of her, how she is the most beautiful baby girl that there has ever been, how my life has been so enriched with knowing her, how shattered that I will never see her smile on this earth again, asking God to bless her and keep her close to Him.
Just to touch her face, just one more time, kiss her smooth cheek, my sweet girl child.
I remember the first time I saw her. Cute even then, sleepy, blurry eyed, the most beautiful color eyes, like the eyes of a tiger, yellowish gold, bundled in her jammies.
What a precious heart. How could her own Mother treat her like she did, like she has until this very day? Her Father loved her the best he could. And she loved him SO much.
She was so loyal to her friends and loved ones. And you knew if she didn't like you. She didn't say anything; just those piercing cat eyes looking balefully at the unfortunate soul told the story.