As I wake up each day, I put on a face. A face that’s not mine, but will get me through the day. I have a collection of faces and rarely do I ever wear the same one. I don’t remember the last time I was able to feel like myself. To wake up and be able to wear my own face.  Holding the pieces of my heart together is hard, exhausting, time consuming too. 
I heard that things will get easier. I heard that I’ll find a way to “move on”. I heard that “life will go on”. Maybe it hasn’t been enough time yet, but things don’t feel any easier, I can’t move on yet, and why does life have to go on without you. 

Strength comes and goes. Just when I think I’m ok, something comes along and reminds me that it’s not, not yet. I was ok being on the path where I got to be your mother, your nurse, your best friend. The path where you were alive and I could make the decisions that were best for you. The sleepless nights, hospital stays and all the memories we made run through my mind so often. 

Where does strength come from? Why is it so hard to find but so easy to let go? I didn’t choose this path, but somehow found myself on it. Just as quickly as I find the strength to take on the world it leaves me. 

I’m still lost, and looking for another path to follow. I don’t think I’ve found it yet. I’m stuck just trying to figure it all out.