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I have been feeling a soft, ever-present sadness lately. I miss my little girl. I always miss her. I ache and I long for her constantly.

How can it possibly have been over three years since my Zevie crossed the thresh-hold and passed to another realm?! Like an accelerated sequence of photos whizzing by so fast you can’t even make out the scenes… that is what the passage of the last three years feels like.

Anyone who has experienced the death of their child can relate to the passage of time in the months and years after. It is different. You are different. Forever shattered; sentenced to picking up the pieces for the rest of your days on earth.

Time passes. Seasons change. People come and go. But my pain, my longing, my grief… they are always here; larger than life. And therein lies the splintering truth of the reality that I will never escape. I will wish for her, ache for her, miss her and think of her every second that I continue to draw breath. Yet I will never again hold her in my arms. Never laugh, dance, sing or read with her. The memories and the love we shared for her short eight years must carry me through. Many an hour pass in which I am certain I cannot make it. For how can I go on without the one true love of my life? The reason for my being.

No longer am I crippled on a daily basis by the anguish and the deep heart-wrenching pain. Those days are far less than the ones I manage to blunder through, filling my plate to the point of overflowing.

But I know with every cell in my body that there will never be a time when I will be at peace with her absence. I will always miss her, always cherish her, always long to hug and kiss her and to see her grow up.


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