no word

I can’t stop crying. And thinking. SO much inside me desperate to pour out.

I try to go on facebook to numb my mind. And I see her everywhere and I am thankful. So eternally thankful.

. . . and gutted.

And scared for it to end. One day everybody will start to move on. You have to. It natural.

I can’t. Ever.

I felt something with her. A connection and a warmth together in the final moments. And its gone.

Its all fucking gone.

I am so lonely. Surrounded by nothing but love and prayers.

I am so lonely though.

It defies all logic.

But then again so does the death of a 6 yr old old. My 6yr old.

Muscles in my body ache from the voraciousness of my tears.

I had a nightmare last night. One I am too scared to share. And one that has made me too scared to sleep tonight.

I’m scared of the dark.

Tony snored last night and I freaked out. I cannot hear it again. That noise so much like the one she made. I can never forget that sound.

I watched the news program about our family and our donation of her tumor. I got a email from the dr in charge of DIPG research at Stanford.

We did good Jennifer. Really really good. There are only a handful of DIPG strains on the world. You my darling had a lot to give.

Instead of parenting and celiacs magazines on our coffee table its urn and coffin magazines.

. . .for my Jennifer.

Our Jennifer.

I thought I would dive right into planning services. Like I have for everything. Every miscarriage jumping right into what comes next. Never pausing. Or falling

. . .or beaten.

Til now.

I am battered. I am twisted.

I am . .  I am Libby. Wife of Tony. Daughter of Mary and Bill. Sister and Aunt to many.

Mother to 4.

and . .

. .  . .

. . .well we all know their is no word for a parent that’s lost a child.