On February 26th, at 11:45PM, just one month prior to what would have been her 13th birthday, my daughter went to Heaven. I don’t feel like I’ll ever breathe again. My heart has shattered sending shards into every organ, bone and muscle that lies within my body. I have lost one of my wings and I am falling. It has been a little over 2 months and instead of getting easier, I find it is more lonely and heart wrenching than ever.
This is the hardest post I’ve ever had to write. It follows the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through. I lost my daughter. After a short but horrific fight with cancer, my baby went to be with our Lord. The pain I feel is all encompassing, every ounce of my being and every molecule in my body is screaming. I am suffocating and trapped. Simply put, I want to be with her. Although I know that I cannot right now, since I have my other half that I need to take care of.
They are my wings. I call them my wings because they are what keeps me in flight. I am not a naturally happy person nor have I ever been. My life has been a fight to stay in the light, to keep myself from drowning myself. The earth has my ankles chained into the darkness beneath the soil, beneath the soul. As the saying goes, I would fight with the Devil himself to bring her back to me.
They always say that sadness and misery comes in pairs and triples. Although that is true, I also believe that happiness and joy come in the same form. For every setback, there’s a way to move forward. For every nightmare, there is a beautiful dream. And for every bad day there is and equally good one. Most of all, I am a person of balance. I try to always keep my eyes open and see the good and the bad. Without good you cannot see evil and without evil you cannot see good. But damn, it is so very hard sometimes.
Everyday, I spend my time flying with one wing, the one lung that I have left. Because I know that I must stay here to breathe and be here for her, my other daughter. She misses her twin sister so very much. They’ve never spent a day apart and as each day goes by it seems they continue to share one heart. Since they were only born with an hour between them right after midnight on March 27th, 2004. Amoura has started doing some of the things our Sathony did. It is, I think her way of coping, not letting the simple gestures of her sister go unforgotten. Amoura is keeping the memory alive.
There are so many photos that I could post but there are so many to share, from her birth to her afterlife and every moment in between. From her laughter to her surgeries and on simple outings me with. Every folder on my computer has her within, it’s all I can do to even quickly look through an album to find the photos that I wanted to make a blog post about. That’s probably why it’s taken me so very long to get to this point in a blog entry.
This photo of her in the park was taken the day before her passing.
And this photo of her laying with mommy was the day of her passing. In my heart I knew, because we laid in bed all day that Sunday. I’m happy that later that night, a beautiful angel in the form of a doctor came to us to help her stop the pain. I’m happy that she could pass away in my arms, in the bed we share, in the house she loved so dearly. It was the most precious moment of my life, and I relive it every day. I just wish that I could be there with her, right now.