Courtney and Jerry circa 2011
The way she looked at her Daddy…I imagine that look of love and devotion glorified in Heaven with the way she looks at Our Lord.
The love between Father and daughter is force unto itself. Unbreakable even by death.
I woke up in a panic this morning. I had forgotten something. I ran downstairs thinking my Courtney needed me. I stood at the door to her room so confused. The boxes and desk? Where was my Courtney? Her bed? Her stuffed dog she slept with?
I stood there just taking in the reality of her absence for a really long time. Tears freely flowing, heart broken once more. I don’t remember the last time I “forgot” she was gone.
My grief overwhelming in that moment.
This is how it goes for August. My heart is content knowing where she is and then not 72 hours later, it’s crushed anew with the reality of her death.
On Saturday our Courtney would have turned 26. I remember her last birthday on earth and what a true celebration of life that day was, surrounded by so many who loved her.
She has been home in Heaven for almost four years now. Her birthday is harder for me emotionally than the day she died. Maybe because birthdays are about the possibilities of what is yet to come. They are about the future. A future that does not exist for me or my girl.
I know, she’s in heaven. It’s what every parent wants for their child. But selfishly enough I’d really prefer her here, with me.
This child never walked, talked or danced. Courtney was locked inside a body that didn’t work like yours or mine, racked with seizures and pain. Yet her soul shine so bright, that all you saw was joy.
Today I am determined to find the JOY amidst the ashes. Determined I tell you! DEATH DOES NOT WIN! I miss you daughter of mine. This day and always