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Remembering One Year

On the build up to anniversaries, be it birthdays, mothers days, end of term, or any other date that elicits memories, I have usually found that the day is not actually as bad as the build up to it. That was not the case this time

Instead of just one day to prepare for there were six days. It started on the 6th, I took Lauren to the hospital at 6pm. The 7th was our first day at Alderhey, the day we checked into Ronald McDonald's house, feeling like frauds as we couldn't comprehend how sick she was. The 8th & 9th the last days we had hope, followed by the 10th. I can still remember walking into her room on the 10th, the noise, the shock. The 11th, the realisation that some things can't be fixed, the numbness, the end of hope.

Everyday over the week I woke up and the first memory was that of a year ago. What we did, how I felt. What was hardest to deal with was not the despair, I'm used to that, it was the hope. The belief that we would remain a happy family of three once this was all over. It's the confidence I had in that belief, the memory of my life before grief, that is the hardest to bear.

The one year anniversary of our beautiful daughters death was horrific, but we made it through.

Life will continue, we will do our best to find joy, but it can never be as it was before.

Life is a journey and the going is not always going to be smooth.

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