Life can be like unexpectedly joining a class. I love books and stories, just like how I enjoy studying English Literature. My deep love for books and plays has led me to an ongoing exploration, allowing me to understand these diverse writers' mixed thoughts and feelings. But in my life's story, there's a part I never wanted - losing my child. Some people try to understand my sadness like they're analyzing a book. They want to help, but their words often don't ease my pain.
People say, "It happened for a reason," or "She's in a better place." While I believe in faith, I miss my child so much. These words, like book reviews, don't help. They show how different my hope is from reality.
Let me be clear: unless you've lost a child, you can't know this pain. I'm grateful for the love I get, but please don't try to explain why this happened.
Instead, I ask for something else.
This isn't something to solve or analyze; it's about understanding and sharing love.
Every day feels like walking through an unknown place. Memories of my child are everywhere - happy and sad at the same time. I miss her laughter, her steps, and her hugs. Remembering her helps, but it also hurts.
People are kind but don't always get what I'm feeling. I don't need advice or explanations. I need someone who can sit with me and understand my hurt without trying to fix it. Someone who doesn't avoid my pain but accepts it.
My pain isn't a puzzle; it's a story of love and loss. It's a part of who I am now, and it's hard to understand from outside.
In my sadness, I hold onto hope - hope that one day, this pain will become something different. Looking back, I want to see sorrow and the journey of healing and remembering.
This journal isn't just words. It proves how strong love can be, even when things are hard.
So, I am going through this tough time, writing down how much I love and miss my child. These words are my way of holding onto the love we shared, even after she's gone.