February 1, 2019 marked five years since Maggie died. Five years. In that time her friends have started and finished high school. They have started college. They have become adults. Lydon and Molly have become teenagers. They have started high school. Lydon has earned his driver’s license and joined the world of part-time employment. They have learned how to navigate the world without their sister.
Five years. Stefan and I are not who we were before. I never will be again. My baby is dead. My first born will never have a first born. I look at pictures and think about the fact that there will be no more pictures of her. It’s still hard. It’s a little less hard than it was at first, but it will always be hard, because she will always be gone. I am still sad all the time. That’s not to say that there is no happiness. I am happy too, but there’s always that shadow. Now that I am working full-time, I am exhausted. I believe I’ve written before about how much energy bereaved parents put into making it through the day, and I feel it. Putting on a “normal” face everyday takes a lot of work.
Five years. Time is so intriguing. How fast or slow it feels is sometimes hard to capture. One one hand, it feels like forever since I last held Mags. On the other, it feels like she was just here yesterday. I am hopeful that this year will be a little easier than last year was since it’s not such a big, important year for her friends. There are no major milestones Maggie is missing. Who knows, though? This month was pretty tough, so what do I know? Her birthday is less than two weeks away, and that will end the difficult season of holidays, death, diagnosis, and birthday. I usually feel like I can breathe a little better after that. There are many things to look forward to this year–Molly turns 16, Lydon starts senior year in the fall and turns 18. It’s crazy how life just keeps happening, even when I want to scream and make it all stop since Maggie should be here.
Five years. Cancer still sucks. Childhood cancer sucks hard. I will never understand. It will never be fair. I will forever miss my girl.