No knowledge that I will never get to hug you again, to talk to you again, or how much I’ve been counseled, or have talked to others about the loss of a child, no matter how many seconds, hours, weeks, and months that go by, no matter how much I’ve read about depression and suicide, no matter how much I know from my own experience with depression, no matter what medicine I take, no matter what goes on in my life, no matter what I do……nothing….none of that can keep me from dropping to my knees when I walk into the spare bedroom where so many of your things are and I am taken over by your scent that strongly remains. It’s as if you are there, only I can’t see you. I know you’re not there, my intellect tells me you are not there, but yet the scent of you brings to my being the full force of having lost you.
I know I have written so much about this, but all the things in my house that were yours so strongly scream your name that I cry if I look at them for more than a few seconds. Because if I remain with them, touch them, remember every memory I have attached to them, I cry and am overtaken by grief. Well, more grief than usual because I am always grief stricken.
If I were the kind of person where smells don’t provoke memories, where things don’t provoke memories so strongly, maybe I would not be affected by these things so much. But I am. But I shall not get rid of a single thing of yours that I have. I’d rather suffer with your memory around me, then continue to suffer without them.
I picked up your running shoes the other day. I picked them up and I hugged them to my chest and I could almost feel every run you made in them. I envisioned all the running trails you ran, how proud you were of running abilities. I hugged them and I cried saying over and over again, “I’m sorry….I am SO sorry Kaitlyn!” And I am. I am so sorry that you hurt so much inside that you had to leave. I could feel you in those shoes.
I don’t understand this world. I don’t understand many of the things that go on in it. I don’t understand all the injustices of the world, the horrible political situations we have, the wars the earth is consumed in, the hatred, the murders, the evil that are in some people. But I also don’t understand the things we have no control over, like why people should be so tortured in this world by loss and grief, disease and sadness. Who are we? Why are we here? Why are we forced to endure the absolute torment of losing the people we love?
Yes, many will say we are not to know the answers to these questions here on earth. Why not? Why are we not supposed to know? My daughter never took anything at face value. She always questioned the norm and what other people accepted on faith. So do I. I just don’t understand it. I never will.
They say I have to move on, to live, to find some happiness. I do in ways, the love of my family. But nothing can remove this painful, huge hole I have in my soul. A hole that only Kaitlyn could fill up and now she is gone.
I know I’m not the only one that has lost a child in this world. But knowing this does not ease my own pain. I simply can’t achieve acceptance of her loss. I know she’s gone, but I can’t accept it, it’s just too unjust. No person on this earth ought to endure the pain of losing a child. No one.