As Acacia’s 7th anniversary approaches in September, I often feel her closest in August.
Here She Is – by Shelly King
I see you everywhere my love.
Every flower, every tree, every blade of grass.
I miss you everywhere, my love.
Every birthday, every holiday, every county fair without you.
From the deepest darkest depths of my soul that I never knew existed until you, to the tips of my toes – I miss you.
My belly, womb and breasts ache for your existence.
To know your warmth, your scent, your touch.
To know the arch of your back, the shape of your lips and the color of your eyes.
To hear the sound of your voice, your laughter and your cry.
To know all of these things about you that I never got to know.
To let go of all of my wonderings, my longings, these mysteries.
And instead to know you, as solid as the ground beneath my feet.
I miss you, Love.
I search for you everywhere.
Yet.
You are here.
In me and of me.
I am forever broken and forever healed.
There is no other way for this to be, except for you with me.
I miss you.
My love, my baby.
My heart and soul ache for you.
I long for one more glance, one more whiff of your scent, one more moment with you earth side, in my arms.
And yet I know.
This is not The End, nor the beginning.
It simply is.
My baby died and I miss her.
Desperately, deeply.
I am forever changed.
I miss you, I miss you, I miss you.