I haven’t had that many mother’s days as a mom yet. This last May marked my third. In so many ways, most ways probably, I am still figuring out what it means to be a mom at all. It’s strange the images and thoughts that perseverate within grief and crisis. It’s been nearly 6 months now since the Mother’s day that would change everything and the images that have consistently come back to me throughout all of this are of Diana as a tiny baby in her mother’s arms and Matt as a little boy in hers.
For those of you that don’t know me directly my name is Miesha and Matt is my amazing husband. This is his story as much or more than it is mine and I write my part of it as a way to move heartbreak to written word, to get the story out of my body and on to paper and to document the story my little family has lived; its lessons marked upon us indelibly.
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