Brent and I have spent the last year dealing with the fallout of an event that we never expected to experience. We never saw it coming, but it came and we were left with the silent aftermath. Here is the thing about grief so intense it brings you to your knees, eventually you raise your head and you look up and what do you see? You see your people, your tribe.
They are the ones that pick you up off the ground (sometimes quite literally) and help you get back on your feet.
They are the ones that remember Hannah, speak her name and let us know that her brief life touched theirs.
They are the ones that understand how hard holidays are and ask how we are doing and if we are ok.
They are the ones that stood by our side despite the fact that we forget their birthdays or other important dates.
They are the ones that don't mind us cancelling plans because we just can get up the courage to leave the house that day.
They don't judge us for the pony tail, no make-up, wrinkled clothes look.
They are the ones that stand in an empty nursery and cry with me because life is just so cruelly unfair sometimes.
They are the ones that try to distract me from the pain. Even if it means shopping cart races though Target - Christina, Brooke, Sam and Katie I am totally looking at you here.
They are the people that stand by my side, and listen to my heartbreak without judgment, without unrealistic timeframes for healing.
I am grateful for my people. I don't know what the last year would have looked like without all of you, but I know it would have been so incredibly lonely without you.
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