The second year without you sucks more than the first - I didn't think that was possible - but, it is proving to be true.  Today, 16 months to the day of your death, is just as horrible - maybe more horrible than the sixth month.  Maybe because the fog has started to clear and I am beginning to see life for what it really is without you.

The death of any child is traumatic - even if you knew it was coming.  Although you were sick, I had no idea it would come so soon - suddenly and swiftly changing my life forever.  Here's what I have learned:

- If you lose your child suddenly - unexpectedly - you will suffer through bewilderment, self-reproach, anger, and the weight of depression.
- The reality of your child's death is difficult to accept.  Even now, it comes in waves - that physical pain of another realization of your absence.  Even after sixteen months, it still feels like a punch in the stomach when I realize you are gone.  There is a constant barrage of things that click into that realization.  But, it is always painful and almost always brings me to my knees.
- You are not given time to prepare when your child dies suddenly - there is just this huge chasm between the way the world is now and the way it should be with your child beside you until the day you die.
- You spend a lot of time looking back - woulda, coulda, shoulda all become words that you repeat in your mind daily - even though you cannot change the past, you spend hours trying to find a way to make it your fault - to try to find the exact thing you could have done differently so that your child didn't die.
- You die a little more inside realizing you didn't get to say good-bye.  You think of all the words left unsaid.  Even though, I know I told Tash I loved her every time I talked to her, it doesn't take away the sting of knowing she died alone and wondering if she was scared.  I shoulda been there - that's my biggest "shoulda."

I would like to believe there is a purpose to all this - that Tash is somewhere, living in a body free from pain and scars.  Instead of relying more on my faith, I find myself with more questions than answers.  I know that Tash made me a better person - I would like to think that through her death, I could become an even better person, a stronger person. But, I am not sure that is possible either.  I am just a sad and grieving mother - trying to figure out what comes next.  I no longer take things for granted - and I try to think about the lasting impressions I will leave.  I try to spend time with the people I love, whenever the opportunity arises.  I no longer do things or see people I don't like.  Life is too short to do that any more.(In my case, I have really gone off the deep end in this area.) 

Eventually, I hope to find the strength to make the most of my life here on Earth without Tash - but, not yet.  For now, I am still counting the days until I see Tash again.  But, I know I have to do something with the time in-between - and, I am trying to figure that out.  I have been without Tasha for 16 months now - 66 weeks - and I miss her more everyday.  I learn something new about grief every day.  I would trade all these lessons for one more day...one more hour...one more minute...I miss you, Tash - I will always love you more....