A Wish for My Dead Daughter's Birthday

Today would have been my late daughter's 26th birthday. Amelia died at 18 months old in the same car accident that killed her big brother Jeremy at age 4 and left me severely injured. In the long years since her death, I learned that some days are worse than others. I usually feel a more intense level of grief (in contrast with the daily baseline) on either of their birthdays or on March 15, the date they died. Some years, these dates sneak up on me. Other years, I feel storm clouds gathering for days. Like this time. I went to bed weeping last night. How could I have survived all this time without her? I never got to wave goodbye on her first day of first grade... I never got to watch her graduate from college. Would she have a serious boyfriend now? A fiance? A husband? Would I be a grandma? I miss every moment of the history we didn't have. Every laugh. Every time we didn't go shoe shopping or share an ice cream. Every secret she didn't share with me. Every hug. Of course I woke up thinking about her. I lay there quietly, a few tears trickling onto my pillow. I learned from a grief counselor that one way to handle this pain is to write a letter to the deceased. I began the letter. I told Amelia how much I grieve her death and all the things I've missed in these years. I usually get pretty emotional when I write these. Were it not for the birth of my next daughter Sophia, now 23, I would strongly prefer to have died with Amelia and Jeremy. But as I'm about to write tho...
Source: Healthy Living - The Huffington Post - Category: Consumer Health News Source Type: news