Remembering the Before

It's that time of year again.  When the little ache in my heart grows a little bigger, knots take hold of my stomach and I endure flashback after flashback.  Today I spontaneously broke into tears in my car, simply driving down the road.  The weeks leading up to the day, the day our lives changed forever, are almost always harder than the day itself.

I find myself struggling to remember that, with Elena, there was a before.  There was a time when we were naïve and unaware of the world that is now our life.  I was a new, young working mother dreaming about the future of our new family, and worrying about my “problems”.  It’s easy to look back and think about what I would have done differently, but time doesn’t allow for that.

Every year in the weeks leading up to that day, I replay all the memories I have of the “before”, holding onto them dearly.  Because with every year that passes, those people who were, that time that was, seems to slip further away.   When I look at the last picture we took, I’m filled with a deep sorrow.  I know, now, what’s to come.  And that fear, the grief, the sorrow, the heartbreak are all still very real and tangible.  Perhaps I will relive it for the rest of my life.

And so I wait.  I endure the now.  I wait for the day to arrive so I can remember, cry, grieve.  But I always remember that she lived.  And for that, I owe to God for saving her and for sustaining me the past six years.  Even in the pain, there is always goodness.