Reminders

Reminders of Charlie are everywhere.

Such is the nature of life with smartphones that there is no shortage of photos of our family over the past fifteen years. Most of Charlie’s life has been captured in a series of perfect little moments. While joyful and carefree they were at the time, today they bring me a sadness that completely envelopes me. I feel physically nauseous and tears pour down my face. It’s like losing Charlie all over again. And this is 18 months after her death.

As humans we don’t like unfinished stories or unhappy endings. But losing your child is the ultimate life disrupting event. My story will not have a happy ending. It simply can’t because there is nothing that can fix the devastation of losing my precious girl. There can be no peace, no resolution. I feel as though my life is a vase that was shattered on December 1st 2021. While I can put the pieces back together, the end product will never be perfect as it once was. It will always be cracked. Damaged goods.

This is my truth. It is the burden I, Carl, and James must carry. No one can change our reality or somehow make everything okay. And it doesn’t help to suggest otherwise. When others wish that time will somehow magically heal our wounds, kind though the sentiment is, it is not helpful. Without Charlie, we will always feel loss and sadness. Not every moment all the time but some moments in every day.

Yesterday, James and I enjoyed a lovely afternoon with family. Yet, as we wandered through a bookstore together, I spotted a card on the shelf, a blue and pink ombre watercolour with something about happiness on it. All I could think of was Charlie. For James, watching his cousins was like watching his life as it was and will never be again. Every time James sees others with their siblings, even me with mine, he is reminded of a love and companionship that he will never experience again in his life.

Similarly, the other day, we were at the vet and one of Charlie’s schoolmates was working there. Helpless to keep my emotions intact as I stood there, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the daughter I will never see again. James lovingly held me, knowing just what I was feeling because we are both broken.

Today’s trigger was driving past some of the kids from Charlie’s year at school arriving for a graduation party at a house not far from ours. This summer Charlie would have turned 18. She would be making plans for university.

Instead, we will visit her grave and weep over what was and what could have been . Every day there are reminders; moments when grief takes over. Every day there are tears. Every day, pain. Life goes on but in those moments we are swept right back into the pain we felt in the weeks and months after she left us. I wish that pain would go away but I know it never will. If you knew Charlie, you would understand why.