We miss you, Laura

Dear family, friends, & my earth angels,

It has been 15 months since Laura died. Some people say that after the one-year mark, things get easier. Believe me, they do NOT. We are able to go about our daily routine, take care of the things we need to, go to work, and look like we are doing quite well. However, the pain is as deep and hurtful as it was on November 8, 2008.

There are times that we can put our pain aside and join you for dinner or just hang and laugh with you. And sometimes, even a glimpse of hope sneaks in and the future doesn't look so dim (especially when we spend time with David, Danielle, Melissa, Shawn, and Kyla). Other times, it is a struggle to get up and going. It is still very necessary for me to cry often.

It means so much to us to know that Laura will not be forgotten. We want you to talk about her, we need to hear her name mentioned, we want you to share your memories with us. Please do not be afraid to do so. Please do not worry about making us cry. Our sadness is always on the surface. Allowing us to talk and cry is giving us the best gift you can give.

Fred and I will never be the same people we were before Laura died. Life looks so different to us now. We don't expect you to understand what it feels like losing a daughter and hope that you never find out. Grief is a vicious, demanding, necessary process that we have to go through.

We don't expect advice or for you to make things better for us. We do ask that you be wiling to continue to listen when we need to talk about Laura.

We are forever grateful for your love, support, and friendship.

Please Don't Ask Me If I'm Over It

Please, don't ask me f I'm over it yet.
I'll never be over it.
Please, don't tell me Laura's in a better place.
She isn't here with me.
Please, don't say at least Laura isn't suffering.
I haven't come to terms with why she had to suffer at all.
Please don't tell me you know how I feel.
Unless you have walked in my shoes.
Please, don't ask me if I feel better.
Bereavement isn't a condition that clears up.
Please, don't tell me at least you had her for so many years.
What year would you chose for your child to die?
Please don't tell me God never gives us more than we can bear.
Please, just say your're sorry.
Please, just say you remember my daughter, if you do.
Please, just listen when I talk about Laura.
Please, mention her name and let me know it's okay to keep my precious memories alive.
Please, Just let me cry, if that's what I need to do for today.

Author Unknown
From Our Children, Our Hearts
Journey of Child Loss and Remembrance
edited by Emily Laitmon with Terry Toll