3 Long Months

Baby Girl,

I still can't believe you're gone. I have moments when I am convinced it's not true. These moments make me feel a little bit insane. It's been three months. I have accepted that you're not walking through the door, but... it's almost like I trick myself for a split second. When it's over I feel angry and disgusted with myself.  What is making my brain do this?

I want to blame someone for taking  you away from me. I'm not a good enough person not to hate the people that fed your habit and enabled you, especially that last night. As much as I have always believed that everyone deserves a second chance, I find myself wanting someone else to to have a very painful life. And unlike the one that was taken from you, I want it to be long. And at the end, I find myself hoping that they will be alone with no one to fight for them. Abandoned, like they abandoned you. I don't even know if I want to find forgiveness. Of all the things I've learned since I lost you, this is the thing I like the least. This is the deepest and ugliest part of me.

I've learned other things. A bit too late to be of any help to you. But I'm paying better attention to my life these days. That's what you've taught me.

I will never again be too busy to take your brother and sisters calls. I don't go to work until your brother has had a good cuddle and I take your sister to school in the morning, just so that we can spend a few more minutes together. I will never again make a habit of asking daddy to pick up the kids after work, because in a few short years I wont have the chance to see them every evening. There is no promotion I will get that will ever compensate for what I allowed myself to miss. Having a little less for a little longer is worth the trade off.

None of this makes today better, your absence is a constant reminder of every mistake I made. Of how lacking I was. According to your journals you used for three years before I knew about it. What kind of a mother doesn't notice that her daughter is falling apart? How can I be confident that my vigilance will be enough to keep your brother and sister safe when I have already failed so horribly? Maybe it's me that I hate. Maybe I am the one that deserted you. Maybe this is the real reason I can't sleep at night.

I know in the logical part of my mind that your addiction was about you and your choices and your desire to hide from your feelings.  The rest of me, the part that doesn't recognize logic, is a mess.

I miss you so much, Baby Girl. I'm so sorry that I failed you.

Love,
Mommy