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Day 24: A Letter To Your Parents

April 7, 2011

And then it hits like a flood, and I just wish with all my might they’d come back.

April 2nd, 2011 12:14am


Gone. I remember the exact feeling each time we were told you went away. Forever. How could I explain the concept of eternity to my three-year old sister? What did I do when she stood by the front door, waiting for you walk in? How could I  even at 8 years old understand that for as long as I lived, I’d never see either of you again.  I am sad, and still hurt that you’ve both have been taken away. More than being hurt, I am angry. And then I get angry, legitimately *mad* because there are those who get to see their parents, talk to them every day, yet they don’t even like each other. Those who complain about their parents and  act with little respect. That to me is not fair and it infuriates me. It hurts to know that until I die, there will be a permanent hole in my heart for what could have been. No amount of love, family, or friends ever make me feel better. It just hurts. 16 years later and I’m still in pain. No one taught me how to deal. Yes, everyone has said Jesus loves me and is watching over me, but no one tells you how to deal with people claiming to know you after reading news articles on tragedy. No one explains how you will feel on each Mother’s and Father’s day, when you just wish you could hear their voices.  Because at that point, you just feel alone. When you look at old pictures, realizing you look just exactly like your mother did when she was younger.,no one explains the fear that creeps into your mind, taunting with the possibility that you too could become diagnosed with a disease. No one explained the crippling feeling of triggers. I remember everything. The smells, the sounds, the taste, the feeling. I remember what it all was like. I remember climbing into your laps. I remember standing near the stove as you cooked. I remember our native language. I remember whispering ‘kachifo’ each night. Maybe if I didn’t remember, things would be easier. But I remember life when we all were. And I want that back. I need that back. It’s said that one can never walk in another’s shoes, but I can feel what my dear friend is going enduring, and I hurt for her.  I hurt because life is taken without warning or notice, and no one should have to bear the burden of a judicial system that gives no preference to the victims Giz I love you, and I am standing with you. Though there are times when I cry for my parents, thinking of what could have been, I am forever grateful for being who I am. Because my parents allowed the four of us to enter into this world, we have been given  the opportunity to show others of God’s grace. No one else but Him could have kept us, nurtured us, and shown His love upon us.


Even still, I pain. I cry. I’m sorry. I miss them. I’m strong. I get headaches. I stay awake at night. I’ll sleep. I’ll be better in the morning, God willing of course.

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