Silence. The closer we get the words slow to a trickle. We spend the last few hours in silence. Deep breath in the driveway. It is time. Through the door the familiar smell of home without the familiar sounds. Her room is dark. Light on. I hate the dark. The toys are waiting, but I can't find her. The insane thought that she would be here missing us is ebbing away. The inevitable rumblings start. I sit at the doll house where all the babies are in the bed with the mommy and daddy. The little blond girl has her head on the mommy's tummy... how she left it the last time she played. If only we could play. Wailing. Calling. I'm so sorry for so many things. I hold the favorite mermaid and the princess fairy. Where is my little one? I want her back! I just want to play again. Pounding. Tears. Carpet. No! No! NO! Seconds. Minutes. Hours. But no one comes. Silence.
In a single second my life has been radically altered. My precious gift from God, sweet Makiah Kaitlyn, has gone to be with Jesus long before her time. I know in my heart that she is happy, but my arms are so empty... my house so dreadfully quiet. I feel at times that a horrible blackness has enveloped me. I feel as though my insides are screaming. I am clawing and fighting to break out of this torturous body- to escape from this oppressive reality, but I cannot escape. The dark anguish leaps on me again and again. It sits on my chest and presses against my very life breath. My heart feels utterly crushed and broken- pummeled into a thousand pieces. Life as I knew it has been shattered and the shards that are left are painful and sharp. Cutting me as I try to walk through them. This is the valley of the shadow of death. How dark is that shadow! Her room is perfectly untouched. All of the dolls in her dollhou...
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