Sofia is so very sick, running a high fever. It’s paralyzing having a sick child after losing a child. A simple sick turns into another tragedy – in my traumatized mind.
The violets are slowly disappearing from Facebook. The calls, the texts, the messages are tapering off. People are moving on, because that’s just part of life. I get that. My mind understands that my trauma is not theirs. But moving on is so very far from my mind right now. Unimaginable. I try to engage in the mundane because it’s bearable. Making a hair appointment. Enrolling Sofia in school. Little, silly things. But they say that’s a start.