(Written July 3, 2008 – one month after the death of my daughter Ava)
I just finished a book about a couple who lost their only child, “First You Die.” Like nearly everything else I have read, it indicates that this pain doesn’t “get better.”
For the author and her husband, the loss has become their definition. The death of their son has determined the rest of their lives – has mapped a course in pain and in “coping,” or at least appearing to cope.
I know this event, the death of my only child – my awesome and adored Ava – is a pivotal point. I know it will remake the rest of my life. But I do not want the rest of my life to be defined by pain, to be determined and outlined by loss. This somehow must help me grow…give… become.
Ava was far too great a person – and is far to great a spirit – to be memorialized by my life’s ruin. I must go on to do/be something good, something strong and positive because of her. Because of us – of what we were together and of what we will always be: connected and powerful.
Dear God, this hurts so bad.