About a year ago I began sending emails to myself.
That may sound funny, but it was not a whimsical decision. Not really, although some of them are kind of lighthearted. It was a deliberate decision. Instead of writing in a journal, I wanted to be sure I’d see what I’d written to myself.
Each email was set on a timer to send exactly one year from the date they were written. And, as soon as they were written, they were promptly forgotten, so it’s always a treat to get them. They are really just meant as a mirror to reflect where I was a year ago as compared to where I am today. ❥
May 19, 2016
Everything is so damn hard right now. Everything feels difficult and dark, I know. Time seems to have stopped as the hours drag by. But, you’re home now. And you are well on your way to erasing the memories of that horrible night. Everything’s been changed, cleaned up, repainted, and new again. I know we aren’t gonna stay long, but we will be back in a few months. This is our home, after all. No act of violence or murder can ever change this. You have to be strong and make it back here.
Today, you are suffering and in the most pain you’ve ever felt in your adult life. There are days when you hurt so badly, you can’t even move or breath without involuntary tears. Sleep has become synonymous with wakefulness, and mostly preferred over anything. The dogs are somber these days and Alex doesn’t know this, but you listen to him cry at night, down the hall, with his door open ~ keeping vigil.
By the time you get this, let’s hope he’s resumed normal living and sleeps with the door closed again. We can do without the snoring, frankly.
You know that you are a survivor, of course.
That will probably sound redundant by the time you get this. If you’ve done your job right, then that sentence should go without saying. It won’t sound like needed encouragement and it won’t be a reminder of what you still need to do to grow and learn from this experience. Regardless of whatever grave injuries you have right now, they will be healed by this time next year. The bruises will be gone. The bones healed. The cuts and scrapes barely even noticeable scars.
And, your heart will be on its way to being whole again, ready for love.
(That was the plan. How’d we do?)
I want you to know that I was here when you woke up and I just know you’re gonna pull through this. By now, you already have. Always remember that even though you lost a baby, YOU still have to grow, to find a way to forgive and move forward. YOU still have work to do. You still have so much left to give the world. And in some ways, your work hasn’t even begun. You wanted to be reminded that these years ahead of you, now, are for giving back to the world that helped you become the woman you are. So, that’s what I’m doing today. Reminding you.
By now, when you get this, you should be trotting around as though nothing ever happened. Your body will be 100% healed. Your mind will be clearer, less like this labyrinth of pain and fury you feel today. The nightmares should be gone. The fear should have dissipated. The loss? The loss will probably still be there, but you know that He doesn’t give us more than we can handle.
You’re the lucky one, remember. Just not that day….
Your goal for May 19, 2017: give yourself a break this weekend. And then, starting Monday, embark on a plan to engage in volunteer work (or more, if you already are).
Grab Alex and the Things and get into your car this weekend (no exceptions!) and drive to that place in the mountains you guys love. Turn your computer off. Turn your phone off. Break out the chess board and commence to wailing Alex’s ass as he has so charmingly for many years claimed you cannot. Just because you are 0-22 doesn’t mean you can’t finally win! ;o)
I have complete and total faith in you, K. You got this. Without question.
Forever on Your Side,
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