Falling Again

About to fall.

Again, I am about to fall.

I feel it.  It’s coming.

Another break, another momentary crash.

To be without her is heartbreaking.

To be a family incomplete in a season of “thankfulness,” is a cruel joke.

Falling.

Others will gather round their tables,

In eager anticipation of the feast,

waiting to be fed.

Alone on my pillow, 

my head grapples to gather its memories,

Anticipating the tears,

waiting for the inevitable release.

Every day is planned for,

Every moment anticipated and navigated.

Fatigue is a regular part of existence now,

It seems there are no breaks, only breakdowns.

No respite.  
Not really.

Sometimes there are moments,

Fleeting, oh so temporary,

In which I feel like it might, someday,

Be better…

But then, here I am.

A mother without her daughter.

It’s as if I am missing limbs.

Bruised and battered

Limping, crawling

Through this life…

And days like this are just like salt in my open, raw wounds.

There is no getting away, around or through this.

It just is.

We have spent the last 13 months trying to shift our focus,

From sadness over what is lost, to attitudes of thankfulness for what remains.

But she is missing.

Our table has an emptiness that cannot be filled.

Our hearts have an emptiness that will not be filled.

A fall is coming.

It is inevitable.

I’ll let the others be thankful this year.

I’m not there yet.