All 3 of us are struggling. We know Morgan is dead as we have peered into her empty eye sockets and felt the rough dry edges of her ribs. Despite those stark memories, little wisps of fantasy or denial persist. A tiny part of me feels as if the last 8! months have been a giant farce, a macabre game of hide and seek. This can’t be real. If I count to ten on base and say “All in come free, free, free” Morgan will materialize from some ingenious hiding place and life will go back to normal.
I know that won’t happen though, can’t happen. There is no going back. But I’m not loving the new normal. It’s too hard, so II don’t really want to move forward. I’m just stuck. What to do? I hope that time works its magic and things sort themselves out somehow. I pray for the peace to accept the unfathomable reality that someone could actually kill our Morgan.
I wish it was me.
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