More than anything at the moment, I dearly wish I could lean on faith, but I’m still not sure. I have been certain in the past that there was a God out there somewhere, watching over us, who had watched over Chris in her decline, and ultimately taken her Home.
I’m now not so sure. I don’t quite know why, but this experience seems to have clipped my wings somewhat. I’m no longer able to possess the faith to move mountains…if I had it, I wouldn’t be where I am now.
Sleep is still at a frustrating premium. A couple of hours here and there, but then there’s some kind of revelation about Kim’s last months on this earth that keeps me from it for a time.
Parallels remain, cruelly and ironically, between the two losses. I hadn’t been aware of it before, but Kim remarked in a MySpace message exactly six weeks before her death that she felt it was taking over. There’s a parallel between that and a conversation F had with Chris about two weeks before her passing where she said: ‘Whatever happens, I am decided to finish with this.’
Those realisations do little to comfort me, and everything to keep me from the necessary sleep. I just wish I could, without interruption, get a couple of nights in a row.