After not writing here for long stretches, I don’t know that this post is even needed. It’s obvious I’ve shuttered this blog.
I kept the window slightly open for so long, worried about losing my crutch. It’s time to close it all the way.
This place was more than my crutch. At times this blog and other online support kept me sane. This was the place I could sort through my grief and remember my daughter.
I never thought this day would come. The day I’d be able to function again. Over four years it’s taken me. If you haven’t lost a child, you might think my grief and how I handle it abnormal. It’s really not.
If you have lost a child, you might worry you are abnormal for grieving for ever. I’m not saying that my grief will end. It will always continue. You are normal, and I am still deeply crushed. Never the same. I’m just in a place where I can function. Where I can be another person besides a grieving mom for long stretches of my day.
Of course my grieving mother persona overlaps. I am just better able to compartmentalize. I’m working as a reporter for a newspaper and part of my responsibility is formatting obituaries for the paper. The first obit I received on my first day was for an infant. For thirty seconds I was incapable of anything but deep grief. I rebounded quickly. I’ll always have those attacks. I’ll always deal with this. But I am dealing with it.
I’ll grieve more privately. I’ll remember Cora and honor her memory in smaller gestures, rather than working in her name around the clock. It’s just time.
Not to say I’ll never post here again. I also leave the blog open for others to stumble upon. I hope it continues to help.
I know the work I did in Cora’s name will live on for a long time, and that in that way she’ll live on.
I hope people still think of her. I hope to still hear from you.
Thank you for being here when I needed you most.