I know you only want to cry. To let numbness envelope you in a deep, blinding fog. A fog that wraps you tight, lest your heart shatters. You want to scream into the darkness. You despise the darkness.
“JUST LEAVE ME ALONE,” I hear you demand. “Leave me alone.”
But sleep must force itself into your grief my child.
You don’t want sleep. I know. But it must come. It will assault your dreams with flashes you don’t want to see. Joy you aren’t ready to feel or remember.
That face. That precious face.
Sleep will release your tired body from its inevitable grasp, and for a moment…a mere moment, you will feel bliss. Bliss before the pain awakes. Bliss before reality.
Sleep will beckon again…remember, remember. Come, come see her here. I will show you her face. Yes, it will hurt for a time. Yes, you will hate me for a little while.
Then the night will fall when I take you into slumber and remind you once again of the gift she was to your life. But in this time you will embrace the remembering, you will long for it. And my peace will blanket you.
Close your eyes my weary child and rest in Me. I have her…right here in my arms. Strong arms, loving arms.
Close your eyes. She will run to you in your dreams. I promise you will remember with joy. Your dreams will overflow with the fullness that the gift of her brought to your life.
Close your eyes and sleep, for joy comes in the morning. My joy always comes in the morning.
Close your eyes and sleep my child. I have her.