I've had lots of people tell me they can't imagine what I must be going through. I believe them. I couldn't imagine it either. We had talked about it – what life would be like without the other – but neither of us could have actually imagined it. It's so much worse than anything we could have imagined. Initially the pain is so deep that it has no boundaries, there's no way to measure it, contain it, or even really feel it. It's so big that you just begin to live in it, because you can't get around it or out of it. I don't know if it ever shrinks or gains dimension, but I've heard that it eventually becomes less overwhelming. I don't know anyone who ever said it goes away though. I think it just becomes a part of who you are, until you just don't notice it as much, kind of like a limp in your heart instead of your leg.
There are things that help me get through every day, things that I know, and things that no one can take away from me.
I know where you are. You're not lost; you're just not here.
I know how to get there...to where you are...eventually. It may take me longer, but the destination ends up being the same.
I know you loved me. I never doubted that for 15 years. Thank you for that gift, it helps me now.
I know you wouldn’t want me to quit living. We talked about it, not a lot, but it did come up. I would have wanted the same for you. However, I can tell you, it’s not as easy as it sounds.
I know that God loves me, even if he can’t answer my questions now. He shows me His love through our family and friends.
It’s not a long list, but it’s enough.
I love you. I miss you. Give Miranda a kiss from daddy.