September 17, 2011
Every second, she is with me. I love her. I stumbled on her blog in 2008. I made a friend, learned so much, and survived one of the hardest years of my life. I will never be the same for having met Sara, and for that I am deeply grateful.
I can write on her fb wall and tweet, but for some reason, when the blog composition pane is open, my heart says, "No! Hold these things here. Ponder them. Treasure them," as if writing a post will take them away. I am grateful for the wonderful posts that have been written about her. They are helpful, beautiful, funny, real. Thank you to Candy Steele, Jessica Turner, Matthew Paul Turner, and all those other bloggers who have the strength and ability to write.
Something about me just can't move beyond it.
She is worth me pushing past that resistance. I have tried; I just can't get the words out. Maybe it feels too final. She's still here. I think I want to stay in this holding pattern of feeling her presence with us and praying for her peace and passing. I don't want to let go one moment too soon, and even though writing isn't letting go, my heart is doing its best to stay steeled up right now.
Doing its best to choose joy.
So here I sit, loving her deeply, full of gratitude, sorrowful for myself and so many who love her, but giddy with joy when my grief takes a breath and I can focus on the reality of HER situation. I want her to be free. I want her to see Jesus. I want her to see her daddy and hear him say, "If a guy would just..." again. I want her to breathe deeply, laugh HARD, dance, and SING. I want her to be free.
I love her. I love seeing all of the love that is being poured out for her on facebook, twitter, and blogs. I love the art she made. I love the lessons she taught us and the life she shared with us.
I am doing my dead level best to choose joy. In fact, my puffy eyes are evidence of a LOT of joy. If you know my Sara, you understand completely.