This post was last updated on May 28th, 2019
By Still Standing Contributor Loni H.E.
Death walked into my world, stealing my daughter from my arms.
Along with her, it took my innocence. I never imagined she could die, but death laughed in my face, angrily spitting as it said, “I take who I want when I want.”
And it does.
I’ve lost loved ones before, and it has shaken me to the core, but none have ripped me apart like the loss of my baby girl.
The death of my grandfather left me inconsolable for weeks.
Oh, how I miss him still.
A broad smile fills my face when I think of him youthfully dancing with my Aunt Dot, a crowd circling them as they clapped and swayed.
What a time he had. What a life.
I have accepted that my daughter died, but I’m not sure I can ever accept that she never got to live.
I held her inside me and loved her every moment, at least she knew my voice… but she never saw the sky.
She never dipped her toes in the ocean.
She never felt my fingers through her hair or my nose nuzzling hers.
She never even saw my face.
She never spun around so fast she fell dizzily to the ground or tasted ice cream mixed with chocolate and caramel.
She never ran so fast that her breath ran out.
She never felt butterflies before a long-awaited kiss.
She never held the life of her child inside her.
She never fell in love.
Death has taken so much.
When you have a child, you dream of all they can have in life. When you lose them those dreams die as well.
I mourn these dreams as much as I mourn my girl.
We all die. But the majority of us get to live.
Life is a privilege that so many take lightly.
I dedicate a piece of each moment in my life to my Aisley.
I would give her all of them if I could.
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