One month

I can't even explain what today was like other than all throughout the day I was comparing. At 8:30 when I woke up, I was thinking just a month ago at 8:30 I had been at work and had my headache so had taken some medicine. When 9:30 came, I thought about the phone call I got that made time stand still. All of those feelings, the panic, the way my brain couldn't process simple things came welling back. I remember trying to get into the ER but that in my panic, I went in the wrong door and had to backtrack and go to the correct door and chiding myself for the mistake because I needed to hurry and get to her. That's all I wanted to do was get to her, like the sooner I got to her, the sooner I could somehow save her. All of today, where was I at this time last month? What were we saying to her? What was being done for her? Could she hear us? Could she see us? 

We ran into town for some errands. We tried the new IHOP and all I could think about was that Amanda should be working there. It was a beautiful day, clear skies, nice breeze but it never matters what is going on or where I'm at, if I'm laughing at something or crying, there is always this hole, always a void, always pain just behind the veil. I feel hollow. My greatest joy, my life mission, as it were, to be the best wife and mom to my kids and now one of my children is living in Heaven and I am in a tailspin. I feel so lost. I still love spending time with Tim and wish I could be with Michael. Part of me, a big part of me, resents even being here still, in OK. I'm mad at myself for having us come at all. Amanda didn't want to be here. I made everyone come. Tim doesn't feel that way. He feels that God opened the door for us to be here and, of course, we didn't want to leave Amanda behind, we wanted her with us, so we brought her. My guilt doesn't let me leave it at that. If I hadn't made us come, she wouldn't have met those people, wouldn't have tried the things she did, and potentially would still be alive. We could have gotten her in at Alexander Paul Institute of Hair Design if we would have just stayed. I know Dad needs us and I am glad to help him, I just wish he could have come there, back to NC. I guess it's selfish. And I know that if she wanted to try the different drugs or whatever, she would have found a way. I just remember her saying this place was going to kill her, that there was too much drugs here, too many people pulling her down. What we intended for a fresh start for her ended up being the end of her here. My guilt drowns me, screams in my ear that it's all my fault that my baby is gone. One month today. At 7:39 my heart felt like it was shattering. We were watching a movie but I kept looking at my watch. I know she was truly gone before the doctor pronounced her brain dead, but that's the time they gave us and it cuts.

While we were in town we went to our storage facility. That was the first time I'd seen it since Tim and Sam had taken everything from Amanda's apartment. I saw her hamper with her dirty clothes still in it and I broke down. Just a month ago she had worn those clothes. She was here. She was alive. I could hold her and touch her and talk to her and hear her laugh and sing. God I miss my baby so much. Each day is such a chore to get through. I just want my baby. I want life back the way it was and then wrestle with my selfishness. I don't want her broken. I know this song is about God, but I always hear the song in my head when I think about missing her, "I just want to be where you are, in your dwelling place forever. Take me to the place where you are. I just want to be with you." 

In some ways I can't believe it's already been a month and in others, every single day feels like an eternity. We just got a check in from insurance that is one of two that we will be getting from when she was in her accident back in August. Yeah, it's nice, but it should have been to pay for her schooling and not to have to worry about bills while she finished school. We had planned on, after she graduated, to move her back to NC if she still wanted to go. That's what the money was supposed to go for. Now we'll have the money and no daughter. We will use some of it to help Michael get his car fixed up totally. We offered him Amanda's car, we would just drive it to him and then fly back, but he likes his. Hers is newer and a lot less miles, but he really likes his car, I guess. 

I was thinking today about how we had to clean out her apartment the Saturday after we got back from NC. Sam helped us, which I was grateful for.  I just remember being so sad that we had to take everything down that her hands had put up. To put things back in storage that she had decided where to put. To take her clothes out of her closet. To see her messy bathroom with her makeup bag on the sink, etc. from whenever she used it last. I was so sad that I'd never get to see it again just like she had it, but more than that, that I'd never get to see her in it again. I'd never get the mommy-daughter nights like we'd planned or get to teach her how to cook. It all just makes me so sad, and I'm so sad for how hard her life had to be with the bipolar. I remember when she had told me that she had tried heroin and I just stopped what I was doing when we were done texting and I just interceded in prayer for her like her life depended on it, and asked others to as well. I knew this was a spiritual battle and not just about the drugs. I don't think I've ever prayed that fervently in my life. I knew she needed me to be doing exactly that at that time.  I remember asking God to intervene on her behalf no matter what it took, and I knew what I was saying, I guess I just assumed that because he could, that he would find a different way. I know he didn't "take" her as that would be saying he caused this. Maybe by allowing her into Heaven when he did, he was actually sparing her a more painful life than she already had.  

I can't look at her temporary urn yet. They give it to you in this sort of velvet bag that covers it. I know it's supposed to have her name engraved on it and something else, but I just can't. I wish Tim could get started on making her urn. I don't know what type of wood it should be, and he was talking about creating a mold thing and casting it out of metal. I have no idea. I was looking today for my Willow Tree figurine that she had bought me several years ago when we were in storage. I know it's got to be in towards the back. I remember when we were staging the house to sell it, we had to pack a lot of personal things up, and that was one of them. I'm thinking that I want her owl urn on a shelf and on one side of it, the Mother-Daughter figurine and on the other the Daddy-Daughter one I just bought Tim. I did find a jewelry/momento Willow Tree box that she had bought me one year for Christmas with the mother and daughter hugging on it. I brought that home with me and inside was a little poem that she had written to me and the last line said, "Sometimes you don't know how much I love you." I love you, too, Sugarbear, to the moon and back, beyond and beyond. I can't wait to "see you in a little while."