Reminders

Brittany's accident was seven months ago today...on July 8 at 12:20pm. That's also the time her boyfriend and his dad were killed...the time her Guardian Angel appeared...and the time my world turned upside down. How can so much time have passed already when my life is still on pause, stuck in July 2010? How can the world pass by so quickly when each breath I take is still so painfully challenging? It hurts to smile and laughing is foreign. I've heard countless people tell me that "Brittany would want you to smile. Brittany would want you to laugh and be happy." I know they all mean well when suggesting these sentiments, but the truth of the matter is, even if the skies would open up and Brittany, herself would say, "Mom! Come on! It's OK to be happy!"...nothing would change. I would still be heartbroken...and smiling and laughing would still be forced...and many times, even faked.

People tell me how strong I am, but I don't feel strong. I wonder if they would say the same thing if they could see me on the days when I can't get out of bed? On the days when I can't catch my breath because the moment I opened my eyes that morning, the wind is knocked out of me all over again? What does it mean to be "strong," anyway? Please don't misunderstand. I'm touched when people say those words to me. I guess I feel like a fraud, though, because on the inside I'm shattered beyond repair. There is not a single second of any day when Brittany isn't on my mind. She's there constantly. When I'm brushing my teethe...she's there. When I'm doing laundry...she's there. Watching TV, helping my son with homework, going to the post office, getting gas...whatever I'm doing...she's always in my thoughts. There is no "getting my mind off of things," despite some great efforts by many dear friends to do just that...but I love them for trying.

Three numbers are engraved in my mind forever: 8, 13, & 19. The 8th was her accident, the 13th she died, and the 19th I buried her. Someone recently told me that these aren't "anniversary dates"...they're just "days." (I know this person was only trying to be encouraging and I truly appreciate the gesture). Maybe they aren't "anniversaries" in the true sense of the word, but they will always be painful reminders...regardless of the month or year the calendar indicates. They serve as reminders of the few short days I had left with her...reminders of how I had to let her go...reminders that I will never again see her brilliant smile or stunning blue eyes...reminders that I will never again hear her infectious laugh or cradle her in my arms...and reminders of why I was forced upon this quest for a "new normal."