Flooded

It still comes. In heavy waves. 
Big waves. 
It's been a while since the last one. 
I thank god they don't come as often as they once did. Those days were... Nearly impossible. 
When they come now I know I just need to hold on. Keep breathing and I know it will be over soon. I pray. I sit. I immerse myself in my son. Because that's all I can do. 
Today I had to pull over. Not really sure what happened. I hadn't been thinking of anything in particular. Just driving. My baby asleep in the back. I need to keep driving until the store opens and cant park or Tracker will wake up. 
But then she came into my mind. Lately they are happy memories. They make me smile. Then I just talk to her. but when it's a wave. When it's grief. It's different. It's like my heart remembered all over again how half of it is missing. and how painful that missing is. 
Then those images flood my vision. 
The road ahead gets foggy and I have no choice but to get off the street. I pulled into a parking lot and the flood gates open. It's like a slide show of her. 
Her birth. 
The moment we met. 
The smile. 
Her breathing. 
Her eyes. 
Waking up to get her. 
Holding her. 
Carrying her up the stairs. 
Cradling her body in mine. 
The fear. 
The sickness. 
The weakness. 
The hospital. 
The tubes. 
The beeping. 
Nurses. 
Doctors. 
The diagnosis. 
Her fate. 
Her eyes. 
Her breathing.
Her lack of movement. 
Hunched over the rail until the bottom half of me was numb. 
Tears. 
Helpless. 
Lifeless. 
Numb. 
Empty. 
Dirt. 
Ground. 
Where she will forever be. 
It runs through my mind over and over. 
Fast. Slow. Fast. 

Then its interrupted at the exact time I start falling. Its interrupted with the sweetest sound. Its interrupted by the gift she gave us. Her little brother. He brings me back to this moment. Right now. How much has changed. I remember she is near. I wish I could see her. Feel her.
How much I miss her. That beautiful. Strong. Full if life little muffin that had a short stay in my arms. That didn't stay long enough. I miss her. She will be 4 years old in a month. I see all these other kids turning 4. She would be that big. She would be talking. She would have such a big personality. She would have likes and dislikes. When I picture Makenzie I imagine a baby. but she wouldn't be a baby. That is crazy to think. 

I miss her. I cant believe how much that missing hurts at times.
but at the same time I am consistently reminded how thankful I am for her. 
For the life she gave me. For the life she left. For what she taught me. 
Everyday I look at Tracker I am reminded once again just what she did for me. For him.
She taught me how to love on the deepest level my heart could bear.
She showed me what living is.
I am very aware I wouldn't be the mother I am to Tracker if it wasn't for her.
I hope he understands that one day.
I hope he really understands the blessing his sister gave him. She is watching out for him. Always has and I always will.