Dear God,

tell my sister I miss her.

There's a little girl I teach in the morning who looks just like she used to look as a little girl. I took one look at her this morning and had to literally FIGHT to keep it together. And she just smiled at me. I looked away. There I was in front of a room of 3rd graders and it was like May all over again.

Hey kids, have you ever seen a grown woman cry?

Thanks to you, God, I kept it together.

Until I came home and cleaned out my closet. A lot of her clothes hang in her closet. I took out the grey shirt. I don't wear it. I haven't ever worn it. It doesn't fit me. But we bought it together. A year ago. Exactly. When she came to visit me in January while she was off chemo. And I can see dressing in the spare room in Madeline's apartment, putting it on with those yellow tights and wearing it as a dress.

Ah, see, now that makes me laugh. Her wearing this silly shirt as a dress with her skinny yellow legs underneath.

laugh and cry.

God, I miss her.

Lately I'm haunted by "normal" dreams. It always me, Danielle, and Maura doing something normal. Sitting at a table and eating. Walking to the store. There we are...Doing something normal. And then I wake up and remember my reality.

New Years was hard. I HATE 2009. My mom is good about it. She's hopeful. She looks at the good. I should look at the good. But mostly I want to say, "fuck the sunny-side of the street I hate all optimists." I don't really but sometimes I do.

I hate 2009.
I loved January.

I have a list growing in my head of days of the year that used to be my favorites and are now on my list of "Days I would rather sleep through":
Christmas
Thanksgiving
New Years
June 23rd
May 19
January 14
Sundays

I hate sundays, God. I go to church now out of obligation rather than because I like it. I hate singing songs of praise at church. Either I cry through them and know a glimpse of your goodness but don't feel it at all, or I obstinately refuse to praise. I know thats wrong. I KNOW I'm supposed to praise You under all circumstances. But

I'm very angry with you.

I'm sorry. But I am.

I feel betrayed by You. Like stabbed in the heart betrayed.

I still believe You're God. I can't ever doubt you.

I just don't feel like you actually do have a plan for my life no matter what Jeremiah says.

I feel that it is all chance. That you really aren't in control. You just let things happen as they happen.

I think you're merciful for bringing Maura to Heaven so she can be happier.

And I feel you are cruel and selfish for leaving us here without her.

And most of all I feel you are NO HELP AT ALL in the comforting department. I feel worse than I did 7 months ago.
I still see her face the last way I saw it. Almost lifeless. Barely breathing. But I guess I should thank you that I see her still with life. Unless I think about it, her lifeless face and body aren't my first thought.

Her hands are.

Her hugs are.

Her smile is.

Her hair.

Her teeth.

Her eyes.

Her laugh.

The way she said my name.

The way she made fun of our parents in a loving way.

The way she made fun of me. "Nerd Alert!"

Yes, I'm very angry. At You. At 2009. At cancer. At Death. At everybody who gets in my way at the wrong time.

I don't know how to fix my head on good thoughts. I feel like my brain has become a dumping ground for negative thoughts and I snub any thoughts of positivity and judge it as false to its core.

Aren't we supposed to be truthful?

I'm unhappy and I don't know how to be "Happy-go-lucky" again.

I'm sad. Almost all the time.

I'm angry when I'm not sad.

I feel like You've abandoned me.

"My enemy has chased me.
He has knocked me to the ground
and forces me to live in darkness like those in the grave.
I am losing all hope;
I am paralyzed with fear.
I remember the days of old.
...
I thirst for you as parched land thirsts for rain.

Come quickly, Lord, and answer me,
for my depression deepens.
Don't turn away from me,
or I will die.
Let me hear of your unfailing love...
Show me where to walk...
Rescue me from my enemies, Lord..."
Psalm 143:3-9


I should be thankful for what I have. I find it hard to count my blessings.

Alright. I'll force myself. But don't ask for more than You'll get.

1. Joao
2. Mom
3. Dad
4. Danielle
5. Isabelle
6. Xico
7. Christine
8. Andre
9. Jessica
10. Benton
11. Maura. all 22 years and 11 months of her life.
12. Bianca
13. Sascha
14. Nicole
15. April
16. Hannah
17. Sheena
18. Shannon
19. Anna
20. Pam
21. My grey Bible with a sword on it that Maura found for me.
22. Ezra
24. Chocolate
25. Dear Mr. Rosan
26. Matt Weaver


That's all you get. But that is a lot. I was wrong. I do have a lot to be thankful for. Maybe I should do this every night.

Don't think this means I've forgiven You. We're still on shaky ground. But thank you for those things anyway. I appreciate them. Thank you.

Beijos,

Lydia