Marie, March 23 2009. Eating blue marshmallow peeps.
The last March we had Marie with us was rough. She was in the hospital here for pneumonia, it was a scary time. I am so glad we don't have to worry and watch her go through that anymore. It's funny, because now I look back on that time and I am just so sad for her. So sad that my just-two-year-old girl was in a hospital struggling for breath. Sad that she had to fight so hard. Sad that that's what it was like for her. Sad that she's not here.
It's very double edged, rejoicing in where Rie is now and missing her like crazy and just longing to see her at the same time. I feel guilty, I still struggle with not asking God "why?". I work hard to just praise God in His infinite knowledge and power. He had reasons for calling her home, He knows more than I do. I cannot understand and I must trust my Good Father and He is. God is so Good. It's just hard, and sometimes it's a lot of work not to be angry, not to feel sorry for us. I don't want to live that way. I want to be content, I long to accept God's will, and I want to serve gladly, waiting for the day we are all together again.
It is so hard to, when I am missing Marie so much to think that she is four. Four years old already! And I don't know what she would have been like at four. All I know is Marie with tanned skin and light brown hair at almost two and half years old. Marie who still had some baby left in her. Marie that I miss so much it hurts to breath sometimes. Marie...
I miss saying her name, and I repeat it to myself now. Just to keep it familiar on my lips. I think of who she might be, how she would be with her sisters. Then I have to stop myself because for Marie it would have just kept getting worse.
She was doing so good that last summer, but even then the part of her brain that controlled her breath was dying. It would have kept dying. It would have gotten harder for her. I can't bear to think of what she would have had to go through and that is probably why I am so careful to praise God for her healing. She didn't have to suffer through all those might haves. She got to dance instead.
I just miss her. Because she is not four. She is still my baby, just a toddler. And they say the pain gets better. It doesn't. I just get better at dealing with it. At living with it. No matter how much time passes I am still going to have arms that ache to hold Marie. The rest of my life will be that way.