Time

I'm sure if you asked my family and friends what is one thing that I wish I could change, they would tell you "September 20, 2012", the day my mother died. But they'd be quite wrong. She's in a far better place than you and I, so it would be wrong of me to wish the world for her. However, if I could redo Wednesday, September 19, 2012, I surely would.

I remember that week was a theme week at school, and the teachers had been asked to wear capes on Wednesday. I tied my towel-cape on proudly that day, but by the evening I could not have felt less like a superhero. Mr. Jones had left for Bible study and things sort of fell apart at our house in ways that have never happened before, including Graham hitting Oliver with a remote which cut into his forehead. I remember feeling sad that Ollie's one year old pictures would contain that little injury. Little did I know that the downward spiral of events, the bruises and the helplessness of that evening would end up being a parallel for the year ahead.

I wish that I had not worn that silly cape that day. I wish that I had not thought of upcoming pictures that day. I wish that I had known that it was going to be my mother's last day here. I would have ran, really ran to her house. I would have dropped to my knees and told her I loved her. But I didn't. I can never have that day back, and I consider it the biggest disappointment of my life. That incredibly wasted day. How much richer it would have been if I would have been able to hold her hand one more time. But I didn't, and I never can again.

I fear the world will never fully understand how everything I am fell apart that Thursday when I heard the news of her passing. How I simply crumbled out of my chair. How I didn't want to make my feet walk when people told me to stand. How driving home from her funeral was perhaps the loneliest feeling my heart will ever experience. How there will forever be a hole in my heart.

I feel as though I'm standing on the tracks trying to push the train back. Life says move on. It's been a year. But I won't move on. Even if there is no one else left to think about her every single day, I always will. They say time will heal all wounds. Maybe so, but it's going to take a lot longer than one year.