So my last post mentioned that we are holding a fund raising day for Livvy’s 16th birthday and it’s going to a be fun memory making day and a positive way to honour the memory of my beautiful girl. 

Still I need to be honest and say that right now I’m struggling. I’m trying so hard to be positive and happy that I feel like a complete fraud.

My head is spinning and my heart is just slowly breaking a fragment at a time.

Each morning I wake to the memory that my child has gone.

Every night as I close my eyes I pray for a dream. A fantasy where my heart is complete, where I get to hold her in my arms again.

I’m sorry, I know this is far from the positive way I usually try to write. Where I try to use my words to convey all Olivia taught me.

To cherish my memories.

To remember in joy.

Today I just can’t be that person.

I’m just too blooming sad.

My eyes are heavy with the tears that are still to fall. Yet my pillow is wet from the tears that have found their freedom.

My head is in such a mixed up place.

I’m angry 

I’m sad 

I’m missing 

  

I’m so angry at life for taking my daughter from me. 

I’m fuming at myself for not remembering her unrelenting spirit, her bravery, for allowing grief to take the upper hand to overwhelm me.

I’m sad, completely and utterly broken hearted. 

It really is as simple as that.

I’m missing, damn I’m missing everything about her, from her long perfect fingers to her sweet crazy curls. Her long beautiful eyelashes to her cute stubby toes. 

  

I miss my girl.

I had to write honestly today. 

Really needed to share my heart. As much as I appreciate the comments and emails I’ve received of you all  telling me how strong I am, I wanted to be truthful.

I’m not always strong 

I’m not always happy

Sometimes I can’t even pretend.

Sometimes I have to let the tears fall.

To allow the gut wrenching sobs escape from deep inside. 

I have to allow myself to be angry, to be completely pissed off at life, to rage again God screaming “Why?”

I have to allow myself to hurt, to let the pain twist deep into my stomach.

I just have to stop pretending I’m ok.

Because right now I’m not. 

It really is as simple as that.