I continue to wake up every morning to the reality of the impossible. Knowing that my youngest, beautiful daughter killed herself is the mental equivalent to being continuously mauled by a bear…..all day and night, every day and night.
I once heard of the true story about a group of fur trappers in the early 1800s that were traveling out west. One of the men in the group was mauled by a grizzly bear. His group decided to leave him there to die, for surely he would die. They left. This man, after awakening after some time, his body a mass of bleeding flesh, exposed ribs, broken leg, crawled and clawed his way many, many miles, many, many days, to civilization. He somehow lived.
I’m still at the gaining consciousness stage wondering whether I can crawl that far.