Less Than Positive

I have been trying to be positive. Positive when I think about Laurel. Positive when I think about my Dad. Hugely positive when I think about Hannah, Zoe and Lucy. Positive when I talk about them. Positive when I leave posts on Alex’s Facebook page. Just positive.

And today, I just can’t do it anymore. I’m angry that my friend is gone. I’m angry that we had to bury children. I’m angry that my children will only have distant memories of their Papa. I am angry that all of these things I want to do in Laurel’s honor, I need her help to do. And I miss them all so much I can’t breathe. And that literally sucks the wind out of my positive sails.

I want so badly to do something. Anything to make this feel different. To take away the just a little bit of the incredible pain that is lingering just underneath the surface. To make me feel like this was all worth it somehow. That something good will come out of this loss. And so I’ve been searching for something, some way to make all of this make sense. But it doesn’t, of course. It will never make sense that such an amazing woman died so early and that her beautiful daughters went with her. It will never make sense that a disease devoured my Dad from the inside out. None of it will ever make sense.

This is what I’ve been wrestling with today. This need for meaning mixed in with the anger, disappointment and deep grief at knowing that there is none. Not for now, at least. And maybe not ever. Probably not ever. The chances are greater than not that I will never know why Laurel and the girls were taken, so suddenly and so violently. And even though I have much greater peace around the loss of my Dad, I will probably never understand that loss either.

But none of this wisdom or knowledge even begins to come to close to filling this sucking hole in my heart and soul. And now I’m back to the anger. And now I’m pissed at how cyclical it all is. Awesome.