It has been a week since God called my Courtney home to Him.
One whole week and I am still living, breathing and making it through my days, dazed, at times confused, at other times consumed with tears and sadness but taking it one step at a time.
As much as I hate this, I know that we will survive this separation.
I miss the weight of her snuggled into my body. I miss the sound of her breathing. I miss her laughter. I miss big beautiful smile. I miss her hands wound around mine. I miss our time snuggling by the Christmas tree.
I find myself standing in the kitchen making her formula before I realize that she doesn’t need it anymore. Getting her meds ready or prepping her feeding tube. Twenty-two years of habits will take time to break.
Time. I seem to have lots of time on my hands now. I am waiting for God to tell me what to do next. Until then, I nap a lot.
I cannot be upset at the fact that God called her home. I cannot be sad that she is in heaven running, jumping, singing and basically having the time of her life. For a child who could not have sugar, can you even imagine what her heavenly banquet looks like. Chocolate anyone??
I cannot be upset that she is out of pain, will never experience another seizure, will never fight for breath again, or will never see the inside of another hospital room again.
I cannot for one millisecond begrudge her an eternity dancing at the throne of her Beloved Lord being surrounded by relatives and friends who have gone home before her.
I just wish I could hold her one more time. I wish I could hear her laugh one more time. I wish I could sing her to sleep one more time.
Alas, that is not to be.
I miss her physical presence in my daily life. I think it will always be this way. I think this is the hardest part of losing someone you loved so much. You have to wait until you yourself are called home in order to touch their face again.
One day little girl. One day I will hold you in my arms again.
Until then, run baby run…
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