364 days ago, it was sunny.

It was beautiful. I biked to therapy that morning. The sky was blue, and my heart was full.

Scott and I went to our neighborhood pool and tried out our great new floaties. I was so happy that day. Six years since Patrick had died, I became deeply grateful for the calm and the peace and the happiness that we regularly enjoyed at that time.

Then, suddenly, all of it was gone.

The worst part is that no thing took her from me. She took herself from me.

* * * *

Getting to today feels like such an enormous accomplishment. We often tell one another, in unfathomable seasons, “I don’t know how you do it,” but the truth is that you just have to. There isn’t another option.

Surviving through the first year, somehow, brings an element of relief. We did it.

I wish we didn’t have to.

It’s tragic.

It’s the type of tragic that takes one’s breath away and brings us to our knees.

It’s pain that cloud’s one’s brain and makes us reconceptualize every element of our lives.

It’s the stress that manifests in every cell of one’s body and brings weakened immune systems.

It’s the irritability, it’s the sensitivity, it’s the shortness of breath, it’s so much.

* * * *

I’m proud of myself and I’m proud of Luke and I’m proud of Sawyer and I’m proud of my Daddy — those who have dared to live.

I’m proud of Karley and of Carrie and of Scott. I’m proud of my mother’s close friends.

We have survived horror, twice.

I am proud of us for facing the horror each day. I’m proud of us for going to work and for making dinner and for traveling and for doing every mundane and stupid and essential task when our hearts feel like they’ve been ripped from our chests and our minds are filled with chaos.

We lost a universe where my Momma lived, and we continue to lose every day.

* * * *

I loved my Mommy.

I still cry out for her in the middle of the night.

I still wake up almost every day at 3 am, sweating and panicked.

I still barely have the energy to get out of bed.

I still ache, always, in every way.

I loved my Mommy, and I always will.

But it doesn’t matter how much I loved my Mommy: I can’t feel her love from the grave she made.

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8 thoughts on “Week 52”

  2. Lori Dorr-Biddle's avatar

    I am speechless always wanting to say the right thing because my heart always breaks with you in every sentence you write. I admire your courage every day to try. To take a step, to take a breath and to be braver then you ever wanted to have to be. You’re doing it, keep trying , we are praying for your strength every day!

  3. Kristina Wuerth's avatar

    I’ve been keeping up with your posts for a whole year and I still grieve for you and your family. No doubt one of God’s precious creations was taken too soon. Me and my family will continue to pray for grace and strength as you continue on this life and faith journey without Harmony. One day in heaven, all will be made right and you WILL see your Mommy again. No more pain, regrets, secrets, struggles, questions… this is the promise I cling to as I personally look forward to seeing my father again. Full restoration of relationship that I didn’t get to experience on earth. ALL will be made right. But not yet, for now continue to shine with the life & purpose God has given you. I love you Hope ❤️

  4. Tiffany Payne Loy's avatar

    My dearest Hope,

    I am so incredibly proud of you❣️

    You have done something that I cannot imagine doing… YOU not only for survived this first year, but you have had the courage to share it with anyone. Week after week, you have opened your heart and allowed others to witness the reality of grief, loss, love, and survival after suicide. That is such a beautiful stewardship. ✝️

    Your words have been truthful and sincere, but they have also helped countless people feel less alone. You have given voice to feelings many families cannot find words for themselves.

    I am proud of you, proud of your family, and proud of every one of you who chose to keep going when the weight of this loss felt unbearable. You continue to love deeply despite the hurt, and that is a beautiful testament to both your strength and your mother’s impact on this world.

    Harmony was loved. She is loved still.🩷

    Holding all of you close in my heart today and praying for peace, comfort, and moments of light as you remember her. 🤍🙏

    Much love and hugs to you all 💜🩵💜🩵

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