Landon has died.
MacKenzie is dying.
I saw a patient today, who I have seen for years. For the first time, she referenced her daughter's death to cancer, 7 years ago.
Tomorrow is the three year anniversary of Henry's diagnosis.
It seems everywhere some days.
Fall has been brutal for me for three years now. Aching, raw, making me want to close my eyes and look away till it's over.
Hoping that I'm not speaking too soon, this year is better. So much better. I am beginning to feel happy, satisfied again, on a consistent basis. And I'm not struggling with too much guilt about that. A much better place to be. I see the same on the faces of my family. The girls are confident, poised, happy, their constant underlying anxiety gone. My husband continues to have rough days, as do I, but overall doing well. It has been some time since one of us hit one of those really hard patches where it felt like you just weren't going to make it up for air again.
I wish I knew what to say to their mothers. I of all people should. But I don't know why this year is better. Honestly, I think it's just time.
There is nothing to do but to keep going, and wait.