I've been trying to come up with something to post all day, and just not getting anywhere.
92 days. Something over 2200 hours. And of course she's still here, in every corner of this house, in every corner of my mind. Every day I still think of things I have to tell her, things I have to make sure she knows, things I want to hear her tell me.
I sit here in the den and look at Yellow Bobby and the pictures of her and it all seems so surreal. Our beautiful, whip-smart, happy, clever, loving, funny, sweet child, in such incredible and unsustainable pain. Why???
Saga link of the day: "What do I Know?"