For the past few weeks, I’ve thought about nothing but her.
Her curls that were to grow into locks later. Her smile that brightened with every passing day until it lay lifeless and immobile.
I’ve thought about pain, grief, hurt and questions. Questions I know too well not to ask. But every time I see how a friend is handling the transition into a Julie-less world, I can’t stop myself.
I hate to see people grieve. It is painful to watch people tear at their hearts, trying to soothe aches they can never reach.
Maybe Job had it easy. It itched and hurt, yes. But he could reach it, he was able to scratch it, he could afford himself a bit of relief, faint as it may have been.
This feels like a one-hundred-year-old wound on the inside, embedded deep within, in parts I can’t reach.
Where do I go from here?
Today, I will myself to let go and live a little, mend my broken relationships and make them worth having.
Julie, Until we meet again, it was and still is so real!