Ever live such a terrible year that when you look back on it you realize you just floated by. You can only recollect parts of the year, the really really hard parts, but the in between of how you lived is a blur? That was my 2018. I lost 11 people in 2018. The first of which being my beloved Daddy. My best friend. The man I turned to for everything. The man I spoke to EVERYDAY. I will never forget the weekend before the Monday he passed. I watched his breathing change. I laid next to him, held his hand and silently cried on his shoulder. I wasn’t ready to let go. Then he took his last breath, tears streamed out of my eyes. I remember leaving the house to run an errand and trying to figure out how life was going on. How was the sun still shining? How were people still smiling? I wished it was all a bad dream. I remember waking up every day for months forgetting he was gone and reliving that pain over and over again. I’d get up to get dressed for work and just stare into my closet. I wished I didn’t have to do anything but sleep and cry in bed all day. But I couldn’t. I had to pay the bills, I had to be a mom, I had to be there for my mom. It was this new life without one of the most important people to live it with anymore and to be honest, many days I didn’t know how I could go on. My entire family was distraught, including my children who were experiencing loss for the first time. No one could console each other as deeply as we needed because we were all in pain. A few weeks later my dad’s brother passed, a few other family members after that. Just when I thought I was starting to cope and my children’s lives were starting to show some normalcy their Dad’s father passed away suddenly to a massive heart attack. A man that was so strong, so kind, so funny. A man who took care of himself. The rock of his family. Our lives suddenly spun out of control again. My kids wore the same clothes they wore to my dads funeral to their other grandfathers funeral because the two dates were so close that they hadn’t even had time to grow out of them. One week later,my dads sister, one of my favorite aunts, lost her battle to cancer. I’m not even going to keep listing the losses because it’s almost crazy to fathom that one family can endure so much pain in 365 days. My only point of writing this is that I can understand how easy it is to live life on autopilot. Truth is, it’s ok. You just can’t stay there. At some point you need to find a way to see the light. You have to live. You have to love. You have to find some way to move on eventually. 2018, you broke me. However, I’m putting myself back together in 2019.


