Ghost

There are days, like today, where I can sense her all around me. I swear, it feels like she is with me. I can smell her sweet smell and her the pitter-patter of her feet on our hardwood floors. I can hear her in her room, playing with her toys. She is following me all around the house as I do the laundry and other miscellaneous chores. It feels like she is right next to me. Right there. But she isn't. It is not a feeling I get all the time, just everyone now and then. It is rather strange, I know. Maybe it is just another way people grieve the loss of a loved one. Or just another way I cope with my horrible loss and try to get through another day without my Karissa.

Optimism out the window

At the strike of midnight 2 years ago, I remember sitting in our house and telling Mark "I have a feeling that 2008 is going to be a great year!" Wrong! I remember feeling very hopeful about having started Karissa on the ketogenic diet. I was hopeful to see where the diet would take us and the possibility that it could improve her learning. I was excited that maybe she would start to progress and develop. Maybe her speech and language would accelerate. Maybe she would start progressing in her fine and gross motor skills. I was hopeful for my little girl and for Mark and I to possibly get to experience just glimpse of what having a 'normal' child is like.

As you know, 2008 was the darkest year of my life. My worst fear came true. I always feared that Karissa would die of a seizure. I have never said this before, but I knew deep down in my gut that Karissa wouldn't live a long life. I hate saying it and I can't exactly remember when I felt it but I just knew. I just put in the back of my mind, hoping that I was wrong. But, my gut has ALWAYS been right.

For me, this past year hasn't been that great either. Mark disagrees with me and of course, 2009 pales in comparison to 2008. We have had our share of up's and down's and challenges this past year. I am afraid to be hopeful for the new year. Sad but true. When you get knocked down so many times, it is hard to keep getting back up and pushing forward and maintain a positive outlook on life. Anyways, that's all.

Only memories...

are all that is left of you.

Memories

One of the memories of Karissa's last Christmas was going to downtown Riverside to "The Festival of Lights" to hear Mark's band play. All the lights, especially at the Mission Inn, were amazing! It was so cold and both Karissa and I were bundled up. Karissa always loved music and I remember dancing with her while Mark played that evening.

Anyways, tonight Mark is a playing, but I, of course, could not bring myself to go. I am doing my best to get through Christmas without Karissa but this, I could not do. It is painful to see people with their kids at Christmas and think, "ya, that used to be us." It is horrible and only those who have lost a child can understand. I HATE being the CHILDLESS couple...I loathe it actually. Especially during the holidays.

Anyways, these are some pictures that were taken at "The Festival of Lights" in 2007.

Like a quickly moving horror film

Sirens.
People.
Screaming.
Daddy.
Questions.
Anger.
Silence.
Prayers.
Death.
Coroner.
Screaming.
Police.
Telephone.
Karissa.
Lights.
Calls.
Reactions.
Numbness.
Angel.
Cold.
Wailing.
My.
Worst.
Fear.
Come.
True.
Mark.
Waiting.
Stop.
Prayers.
Kristy.
People.
Wailing.
Friends.
Pediatrician.
Response.
Perfect.
Karissa.
Eyelashes.
Skin.
Mom.
Firemen.
Body.
Bag.
Dream.
Gaylin.
Silence.
Sister.
Blue.
Seizures.
Suffering.
Lack.
Of.
Air.
Paramedic.
Despair.
Hope.
Breath.
The.
Cross.
Jesus.
Karissa.

Sometimes when I can't sleep at night, this is what runs through my mind.

I miss you

Facing the inevitable

If I had my way, I would go away for Christmas again this year. Last year, Mark and I spent Christmas in Manhattan. We left on Christmas Eve. It was so much fun. We stayed out late, ate great food and drank great wine, went to a few shows and did some shopping.

I didn't even want to think about our first Christmas without Karissa. I didn't want to reminisce about the traditions we had started with our daughter, like going to Disneyland in the fall to pick out her ornament to hang on the Christmas tree. Or the several pairs of Christmas pajamas. The Christmas pictures and pretty dresses.

I didn't decorate my home for the holidays like I usually do. Not one single decoration, except for a candle or two. I couldn't bear to pull out the decorations and come across her stocking or see all of her special ornaments.

So, our first Christmas without Karissa we escaped from it all. But, you know, I was still unbearably sad. I found myself walking the streets of Manhattan clinging to Mark in tears, just wishing our daughter was with us. Thinking how much she would love all the lights and the stroller rides. It was tough.

This year I have decorated my home. We have our Christmas tree up, however, it is a very generic looking tree. No special keepsake ornaments, in fact, I knew exactly which box contained all of Karissa's things and I just put it aside for another Christmas. I even put a Christmas tree in Karissa's room decorated with none other than purple lights. I love walking by her room and seeing the glow of all the lights. It makes me happy.

This year is a little easier. Just a little. I have found what I can and cannot handle. For one, I can't listen to Christmas music. Obviously it can't be avoided, but I don't have it blaring in my house for the entire month of December, which is usually the norm. Shopping and wrapping presents is a little tough, especially when it came to shopping for my 4 year old niece, who is only a month older than Karissa. I left the Christmas tags blank because I couldn't bring myself to leave off Karissa's name and just write 'From: Mark and Adrianne.'

I guess what I am trying to say is that I am doing my best to get through one of the toughest times of the year. I don't want to escape and run away. That didn't work the first time, although it did numb the pain, but only temporarily.