What I Need

I have never been good at telling others what I need.

Losing my daughter complicated my ability to ask for help rather than sharpening it.

If I could have given myself one thing to get me through, when I stopped answering the phone and hoped no one would stop by, it would have been a voice to tell those closest to me what I will need most to get me through the days and years ahead…

I need to say her name without bringing everyone to tears.

I need her life to be included in the count of children, grandchildren, nieces, and nephews.

I need kindness on birthdays and understanding on holidays.

I need to stay in bed and a reason to get out of it.

I need to talk endlessly and to let the phone ring.

I need an extra hug and respect for my space.

I need someone to ask how I’m doing and want to know the real answer.

I need careful announcements of pregnancies, baby showers, and births, mine did not turn out as I hoped.

I need a “handle with care” sticker for my heart, my emotions have been fragile since the day I said goodbye.

I need patience and reminders for my mind, part of it will always be somewhere else.

I need forgiveness for not being the friend, sister, daughter, and wife I used to be…

a lifetime is an impossibly long time to wait to hold my child again.