I keep waiting for the mystical change my mental health care providers keep promising in on the horizon. "Nothing is constant. Not even pain."
Sure.
Still waiting for that magic to happen. I got nothing.
Actually, I came here to the coffeeshop to write on the blog, and have spent the last three hours looking at pictures of my daughter on Facebook and crying openly in in public. Not a lot of progress, folks.
I just got a refill on my hot beverage, and felt compelled to tell the new counter girl with the amazing bright blue hair that my daughter would've loved her hair. I had to go on to tell her that Cory used to change her hair color all the time, that she was an artist, and that she died, and then proceed to show her pictures of Cory (with two different hair colors), as if she cared.
So far, in my child loss experience, the crushing pain has not changed one whit in the last three years and three days.
Not one whit.
Call me negative, if you want. I'm just keeping it real.
Yes...yes. Even if our child is not with us any longer, as their mom we feel passionate to speak of them...even to total strangers. Something that they would have liked, or admire, or found humorous, or given thumbs up to..... would be the one relevant thing to propel us into this type of discussion. I do it too Nick and I get it...totally!
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