I often forget I started this blog to hash out my struggles and frustrations with life, with loss, with the world. I thought about keeping this place private, only for a few select eyes to see. However, I felt that wasn’t fair to those that share the same obstacles I do, and those that have yet to endure what I’ve endured. It’s been a great few years to open some of my deepest wounds to the world only to receive nothing but positive, encouraging words in return. I’ve talked to and met some amazing people along the way. I’ll never forget a woman in Chicago (you know who you are) coming to me just months after Rachel passed because she found my story online. I can only imagine her frantically scouring the internet for answers, explanations for her daughters passing of the very same extremely rare genetic disorder that Rachel had. What started with a simple email grew into an awesome friendship. Walking into a Thai restaurant in NYC, pregnant with hope and nerves, we met in person. What a great night is was- to live, love, laugh and cry over such similar stories. I only wish we lived closer together.
My last post left words of strength, but to be honest, I’ve felt very weak these days. I don’t know what it is. I’m usually over my dark period that surrounds Rachel’s anniversary right now, but this year, I still often find myself needing more space, more time to grieve. Not a day has gone by this year that I have yet to not think of her, miss her, long for her.
I find myself trying to bury my thoughts in my work, focus on Erin, our new home, etc. But nothing seems to override my grief these past two months. I miss her. I miss her a ton. I miss the old me. I miss my oldest daughter. I miss talking to people that 100% understand.
I find myself yearning for more community in our new town. Thinking it will make things better. Make things easier. But each situation I find myself in has turned out to make it 10 times harder. It makes me dread meeting more people in a time of my life where I need to be doing exactly that: meeting new people, building a new community.
I never thought I’d say this, but I think I actually miss New York City. I miss the people, the pace of life, the culture, the community. It’s funny because I never officially called it home. I always said that I hated it and I couldn’t wait to leave. But it represents a lot to me. A lot in my life. People that 100% understood my grief.