Mantra

For no particular reason, the last few days have been very difficult. I find myself crying more often than usual and shaking my head in wordless, dumb frustration at the total irreversibility of what has happened. There is a piercing quality to memories of her, which still surface constantly, which are simultaneously unbearable and so very precious to me.

I don’t know how to be here without her and yet I do it every day. I want to be here with Cece but I want to go home to Lizzy. I can’t make sense of what I feel or think. I do the same things every day because the world around me tells me they are good things to do. I hope they are making a difference, in my life, in Cecilia’s life, in the lives of those around me.

I don’t feel like I know anything. Everything spins and spins and then plunges into silence and despair either creeps in or else I just get up and continue doing what I have trained myself to do. I can cry myself to sleep and wake to laugh and play with Cecilia. I can stop what I’m doing to sob and gasp in pain as the depth of missing Lizzy hits me, then blow my nose, wash my hands, and pick up Cecilia to go make dinner. Breaking down and picking up has just become part of my life.

There’s nothing new to say. Nothing new to feel. I just miss her, and I miss her all the time. No one can answer my questions. I keep asking and praying and thinking and reading and trying and no one can answer my questions. I find myself repeating every day (and sometimes in the still, half-waking moments of the night) these four phrases:

Lizzy, I want you.

Lizzy, I need you.

Lizzy, I miss you.

Lizzy, I love you.

What more is there to say?