Two years ago, today, we buried our Sweet GG. On Halloween morning. It makes me ill to think about it. How can it be two years already? It feels like yesterday.
I can honestly tell you that this month has been one of the worst months of our lives. It ranks right up there with November 2012 – when we received Gabriella’s diagnosis, August 2013 – when we were told that Gabriella’s tumor had returned with a vengeance and October 2013 – when Gabriella died. For me, this month has been even worse than the one year mark of Gabriella dying.
This morning I was looking at pictures in my Dropbox when Jake joined me. He snuggled into me, took the phone and slowly looked at pictures of “Baby Gabriella”. This picture really stuck out for both of us. Jake is one month old here. Gabriella is just shy of five-years old. Their first Halloween together. Who knew that they’d only share four more Halloween’s together.
I feel as if I’m trapped in a nightmare. Children don’t suffer unimaginable torture then die. Surely I’m dreaming and will wake up to deal with my ultra-crabby, not a morning girl tomorrow. How does this sort of thing happen in this day and age?
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