…like an anchor, holding me, weighted, secure, the greatest horror, the biggest loss… holding me from falling into the arms of madness, into the screaming blackness quickly surrounding me, part of me wanting to go, to be gone, to disappear, to make this not happen.  I could not change this.  Of all the things I fixed for you, I could not fix this one.  It was done.

He was there all along.  He knew way before I.  It was the way she looked in her eyes.  It was the way I felt when she would leave the house…. a decided unsettledness, sometimes just knocking lightly in my head, other times screaming, ripping through my heart.  The wakefulness, the middle of the night prayers, our prayers, the tears.  Her tears, my tears;  a terror we shared in our spirits.  One that we did not dare name or speak of for as to do so may call it into existence setting things into motion.  What things?  Walking into her room, her bed unmade, empty forever.  Her favorite shower gel waiting on the shelf, a bottle of "barbie pink" nail polish that I had just given her, untouched. These simple stupid things that would seem not to matter are the worst of all.  They are the material reminders of her personality.  "I love you mommy" an echo, haunting….through the house, mingling with the soft scent of her perfume.  And this thing.  The absence of her…

…as deep cries unto deep  I cannot and will not ever be able to wrap myself around this one.  No need to try, it is impossible to accept  that her death, her passing of this earth as my reality.  It is impossible to accept that I will not see her here on this earth again.  So, acceptance is no longer a goal, or even a factor in the rest of my life here on earth.  I just shuffle through, one step a day, sometimes no step, sometimes falling backward, but mostly moving…by one breath at a time. and I remember the promise.  I remember the prophecy.  He knew all along.  He is my Anchor.