Grief is a crazy thing. Just when I think I've got it all figured out, I realize that I couldn't be more wrong.
The tears that at one point in time came daily have long since spread themselves out. Sometimes I go days...sometimes weeks without tears. It doesn't mean I don't miss her. It doesn't mean that I don't hurt. It doesn't mean anything other than that I'm slowly re-learning how to function and to feel happy.
Then there are days like today where everything catches up with you.
Days where I don't want to be strong. Days where I just feel defeated. Days where all that I want is for Matt to hold me and let me cry.
Thats exactly what we did.
Cried because we miss our little girl.
Cried because it hurts like hell.
Cried because every song on the radio reminds us of her.
Cried because of the reality that our family will never be whole...at least not here on Earth.
Cried because we will never have a "Big Sister" picture with Charlotte awkwardly balancing her little baby brother on her lap.
Cried because the details...every last freakin' detail...of that day have started to creep into my mind more frequently. Then cried some more because those details make me physically sick.
Cried because of all of the "stroller-less" walks that I have taken in the past week.
Cried because I gave away a tote full of 12 month clothes that still had tags on them. Clothes with no memories attached to them except for the picture perfect image I have of them hanging in Charlotte's closet.
Cried because I want my little girl back.
Cried because I wanted to...needed to...
And after I had left adequate tear marks on the chest of Matt's t-shirt, I dried my eyes, pulled myself together and helped Matt with dinner.
Sometimes you just need a good cry.