Pat and I officially survived the second holiday season without Mackenzie. While I don’t think many bereaved parents will be surprised about this, but perhaps others will, is that this holiday was infinitely harder than last year’s. It was much quieter, which I know is normal. In the real world, life goes on, every day stuff happens. For many bereaved parents, we feel we exist in a half-and-half state: knowing that time is moving on, and yet part of our hearts will always be existing in those last moments we had with our child. This is what makes the changing of the year so hard, the passing of time that takes us further away from that last minute our child’s heart was beating alongside ours. I said to Pat that it’s hard for me to comprehend we are heading into the second year without her, but the year change…the number switch is this unavoidable flashing red light.
In the week leading up to NYE, I silently watched through the screen the baking, smiles, holiday parties of many, and I wondered what the holidays were like in Heaven. On Christmas Eve, Kenz blessed me with a dream, only my second I’ve had with her since she died. Much like what I feel like about life right now, she was quiet as she held my hand… but I felt her radiating warmth.
No matter how much I didn’t want the clock to change… life continues on and 2023 is here. I will no longer be able to say, “She died last year,” and instead will have to say, “She died two years ago.” For a bereaved momma, that change of time is another heartbreak along this unwanted journey.
Rivers and Roads: A journey through grief 