Hi.
Welcome to my blog. Here, I document my journey after the loss of my brilliant daughter Elira to suicide in January of 2018. I am learning how to breathe and be again without a large piece of my heart walking this world.
Welcome to my blog. Here, I document my journey after the loss of my brilliant daughter Elira to suicide in January of 2018. I am learning how to breathe and be again without a large piece of my heart walking this world.
I had Elira when I was only 23 years old. I never thought I would be a mother so early, surprised many. But, from the moment I found out I was pregnant, I loved that baby like no one I had ever loved before. And, wow, she loved me back from the moment her heart started beating inside of me. A love affair like none other. I had been loved fiercely by my family, but, this baby, she was something else. I willed Elira into life because of that love. And, now, that she is no longer physically here, I have had to rely on that love to stay connected to her, to figure out how to still be her mother, to uncover how I can still live without her physical presence.
Why does the weather matter any more, when you are not here? You are my sun and my moon, The wind that gently moves my hair, You are the raindrops thumping the ground, The snowflakes caressing the trees, You are the dew that gently touches the grass, You are my Masterpiece.
I will wear my sadness from your absence, Like a carefully pressed old boring suit, I will swirl it around in my meaningless being, I will constantly push it down and fight with it, Until one day I will leave it all behind, To be reunited in joy with you, And bid farewell to this gruesome new friend.
In the darkness like a photographer developing a picture, I curate your image. I hear you laugh, loud and deeply, I see your eyes sparkling, I hear the sound of your feet as you walk with big confident footsteps, I even feel the flutter of your long eyelashes gently caress my face, The flip of your hair, The amazing fast movement of your fingers over the black and white piano keys, The look of disapproval in your face, Your lovely voice calling my name. And just like the photographer, I hold on to my picture, To never forget.