When I look around four years later, nothing feels familiar. I don't know how I made it this far without the two of you physically by my side. The journey to this point has been everything but easy. I found myself saying many times I don't trust anyone. Isn't that sad? I was told you might see it as sad, but I see it as being honest. When the tears started to appear, I remembered what you used to say to me. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.

The medication was my safety net at the beginning, is what they told me. I struggled to get out of bed, the medication increased, and I started to function and feel less. I walked around saying I don't care anymore and nothing could hurt me more than what I was already going through. I was told that could be a dangerous place to be, and they were right. I found a way to feel something other than the pain inside. I wouldn't let it heal. I just covered it up and went on my way until one day, I told someone I didn't know why I was doing this, but I couldn't stop. I tried to pay attention as they spoke, but all I could hear was what you used to say to me. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.

I couldn't drive past the apartment until that second year when I couldn't ignore it anymore. I placed your picture against a tree with flowers and candles surrounding it outside the apartment. I walked over to the green door, placed my hand on it, and my mind took me back. I sat in the car and broke down, shouting I should have! I could have! over and over again. The person beside me said, intending to bring me back, how long will you continue to punish yourself? I looked over at them and remembered what you used to say to me at that moment. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.

A day in therapy came when I said I didn't want to be numb anymore. I made a doctor's appointment and said I wanted off the medication. I couldn't continue being numb any longer. My doctor looked at me and said I support you and know you can do this. He hugged me as he said, promise me you'll reach out if it becomes too much. I lowered the medication over time and wondered at one point if this was the right thing to do. At that moment, I remembered what you used to say to me. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.

I found myself in an energy healing session, which would be the first of many. Art became a way to express what was happening inside when words couldn't. I was encouraged to put pen to paper and write. As the pain came up, I remembered what you used to say to me. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.    

I ended up in a group of bereaved parents, which I couldn't believe I was part of, as I pulled up a chair to sit among them. I listened as everyone spoke about what happened to their loved ones and dreaded the moment I had to talk. When I felt overwhelmed and wanted to leave, I remembered what you used to say to me. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.

I used to walk around our favorite lake almost every day when some fear started to wash over me. I sat in the car outside the grocery store, unable to get out as anxiety tightened its grip on me. Insomnia became my best friend when all I wanted was to be able to sleep. They told me to be kind to myself. It was part of PTSD. I stood staring at the mirror, wondering who this person was looking back at me. At that moment, I remembered what you used to say to me. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.

They introduced me to horses and what an experience it has been. When I felt the most out of control, they said it was time to get her on top of a horse. I thought they were out of their minds with my anxiety at an all-time high, but they were right. The horse pushed me out of my comfort zone, teaching me tough lessons, and in those moments, I remembered what you used to say to me. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.

I sat in therapy recently, wondering if reading the police report I finally received last year would be good for me. Parts of the report were read until I realized nothing in there would bring you back. I sat on the floor and tore up, one by one, all 142 pages of that report by hand. During it all, I remembered what you used to say to me. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.

This week ended up being challenging as emotions started to surface. I found myself breaking down in front of a horse, saying, I am sorry, I can't do this today. Someone stood beside me as I wiped tears from my eyes and said that sometimes just showing up and trying is enough. At that moment, I remembered what you used to say to me. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.

This journey has brought amazing and inspiring people into my life, and I am grateful for every single one. I hope the two of you look down tonight as I add a little twinkle to the night. I love and miss you more than words can even describe.  As I continue this journey, I know you will be right by my side, whispering in my ear those words you used to say to me. Mommy, don't cry. I love you.

- Mommy

"It's your road and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you."

-Rumi