June 8, 2015
I have finally reached the week that I have been dreading for the last few months…the week approaching the 1 year marker of Aja’s murder. It still hurts to connect that word to Aja. Murder. It doesn’t feel right. Murder is harsh. Ugly. Aja wasn’t any of those things. She was a gentle being. A free spirit. My black butterfly. Just like the Deniece Williams song *Black Butterfly*
“Now you’re free, and the world has come to see….Just how proud and beautiful you are”
Rationally, I can tell myself that I will simply put one foot in front of the other and get through that day much the same as I have gotten through every other painful day. But man, when I tell you…EVERY fiber of my being is crying out, every beat of my heart wants to be the last beat. I close my eyes to shelter myself from the images in my head, but they just become more vivid. I block my ears, but I can’t stop hearing Aja crying out for me.
I think about and already miss the grandbabies that will never be born of Aja, or the husband she will never marry, the college she will never graduate from, the first house she will never get a chance to celebrate. I think about the holidays that I will never have a chance to celebrate with her and her family, or the visits I will never get to look forward to as I get older..eagerly looking forward to having ALL of my children together with me for the holidays.
I will still eagerly look forward to seeing my son, daughter and grandchildren; but there will always be a piece of me that keeps glancing at the door, praying that this nightmare will finally come to an end and she will come bopping through the door, arms bursting because she was carrying way too much of everything, ( because she always went overboard with gifts and decorations on holidays).. *hey Mummyyyyy!!!! I missed you so much!!!* with that sweet smile that lit up a room.
I miss the girly giggles between Aja, Michelle and Mani late at night. The relentless teasing poor Aaron had to put up with from his sisters, and even worse if Kia , Jauhara and April were there too! I miss Aja climbing her big adult self up into my bed to snuggle with me; or when I’d walk into my room to find Aja with all of her nail supplies..announcing she was doing my nails. Even her walking in and demanding that I lay down so she could *clean up these ugly ass eyebrows* as she sang along to her favorite songs, with that sweet voice of hers. It was always so pretty, but she didn’t believe so.
I looked forward to those times that we spent together; I enjoyed her company so much in such an organic way. I was so proud of the woman that she was growing into and I loved to just sit there and sort of observe her in her element, and watch how everyone responded to her..she was kind, thoughtful, hardworking, humble...and oh so funny.
Everyone says all of this will lessen with time. I don’t know how that can be possible. I don’t think the pain will go anywhere. I just find different ways to navigate it and to accept the pain, welcome it home like an old friend and to understand…that the depth of my pain is simply a reflection of the depth of the love that I had and continue to have for Aja.
