Today was a hard day. It was filled with anger, sadness, desperation, and tears. I am angry at the fact that my husband is no longer here. I am mad that my daughter doesn’t get to grow up with her father, and that my husband doesn’t get to experience his daughter grow up. I am mad and disappointed at everything and everyone that was involved with this accident. I have the right to be angry. I wake up next to an empty space, instead of my husband’s embrace. I see my daughter give nosy kisses and try to feed chips to a picture of her father because he is not in the flesh. As a woman, my heart is broken. And as a mother, my broken heart aches with agony as I feel for my daughter. I feel a sense of desperation that I can’t bring my husband back and give her his arms, his love, his kisses, his all. It’s such a debilitating feeling. A debilitating feeling that those who lose the love of their life genuinely know. 

Tears roll down my face, as I lay on my kitchen floor, crying my soul out, with no one there to console me. The person that used to pick me up is no longer here. As I cry, the pain gets more intense. It’s an intensity of a broken heart, a damaged soul with broken dreams. It’s good to cry and release that pain. Someone once told me that grief is love that you can’t give. I find that to be true. As I pick myself up from the kitchen floor, I notice my daughter woke up from her nap. As I stand outside her bedroom door, I wipe my tears and collect myself. All she sees is her mother smiling and singing at her, as I enter the room. Not knowing that I feel like I’m bleeding internally with loneliness and darkness. And that today was a hard day.