people keep asking how my family and i are doing. i usually fumble over my words and don't really know what to say to them. in part because it's too much to put into a few words, and partially because i stopped asking myself that same question.
we are still here. we are moving. but we are different.
we'll never be the same. and so right now we're trying to establish a new normal. we're grasping for how we are supposed to remember tori mae yet live our lives without her.
we're thankful for the nine days we got with her, to shower her with love, care and affection. we envy and grieve every day since then we haven't been able to see and touch her.
we get angry... at the 'why' and the 'what if', but we try to unclench our fists and let it go, knowing that dwelling on those things will never change the past. we have only the present.
we cry. some days we cry a lot. some not at all. but it's part of grieving, so we're learning to let the tears come when they come and not hold back.
we're clinging to hope that she is in a place far better than we can imagine and that she knows no more pain, sadness, hurt, suffering, tears or sorrow. we hope that one day there will be more infants to hold and love. and on another day, we will hold and love tori again.
we hold on to faith. faith that God can turn this something bad into something good. faith that He comforts us now so we may comfort others likewise. faith that He Himself is good, even though this whole thing seems so bad.
so, how are we doing? we are here and we are living.
and even though the answer that comes out of my mouth may not sound like much, i am thankful for all the people in our lives who care enough to ask.