I Will Never Be The Same
Wow. Two years. Back then, I never would have thought it possible to live every day with this sort of ache, but as my big brother pointed out, it turns out, you can survive with a giant hole in your heart.
This morning, I sat down and read some more of Laurie's journals. One, in particular grabbed my heart. A small green journal she started in 2003, with a very specific audience in mind. She wrote it for her future husband, though she had no idea who he would be. For each entry, she would cut out a "Love is..." comic from the Chicago Sun-Times, and write about it, intending to give it to the man she would marry. It simply broke my heart. So much optimism and hope, and love on those pages, but it turns out, in the end, they are now just words written in a small green journal.
I love you, Laurie. I miss you profoundly, and your life and death wraps around my heart every day. I wish I could show you my babies, and let you teach Denver how to burp. I wish you could help Maya put lipstick on, and laugh when Isaiah winks at you and says "hey dollface." I wish you could cry with me right now, and help me get through my broken heart. I wish you could tell me it will be alright...
I wish I could have told you that it would be alright. I wish I could have told you that everything would change, and you would be better. I wish I could have told you that there is such thing as heaven and hell, and we might catch glimpses of them here on earth, and that is part of it all.
I wish I could tell you that having babies hurts, and tivo is awesome, and seriously, The Office is that funny. I wish I could braid your hair, and hear about your friday night, and show you the Cubs car seat covers I made. I wish we could prank call Mom, throw an "I love you" party for Kristin, and eat velveeta straight out of the box. I wish we could play "heart and soul" on the piano together, make heart-shaped meatloaf and other soul-food, and pray diligently for each other's heart and soul. I wish I could hear what you wish...
This is what love is. Love is...cherishing our memories. Love is...choosing not to let you go. Love is...carrying you everywhere I go. Love is... knowing I will never be the same.
5 comments:
Katie,
It was good to see you and the twins last night and to be able to talk and laugh and eat good food. Remember we love you and are praying that you continue to seek the Lord first and continue on the path of making good decisions. Our prayers are with you and your family as today is a hard day for many. Love, Mrs. H.
Great post, Skate. I love you so.
I cannot wait to see you in June. Somehow right now I wish I could be over there with you, Mom, Pete, Chris, and Kristin. But space and time do not allow. Soon.
Greg
Praying for you tons today and always Katie - and all of your adorable little ones. You have such eloquent words... Love, Jackie
You have such a way with words, that was so beautifully written Katie. Thinking of you and the kids!
Love and Hugs,
Shelly Cox
That was so sad but beautifully said.
I can't imagine how it must feel to lose one's only sister, especially a sister who was very close in age and who was a friend as well as a sister. I am starting to get a glimpse, though, by reading your words, of how it must feel... I am so sorry, again and again, for your profound loss, Kate.
Post a Comment