Karen Louise is a State University of New York graduate and writer. She tragically lost her 15-year-old daughter two years ago. Here, she writes about whether you ever get over the loss of a child…
Two years next month marks the tragic death of my beautiful 15 year old daughter. She was an intricate labyrinth. She was so young and vibrant. She had a captivating soul and commanded the attention when she walked into the room. Her personality was that of a goofy kid who was transitioning into her young adult years. She was brilliant, becoming more refined, and wise beyond her years. She cared for others’ feelings, needs and desires. Her smile radiated a sense of careless freedom. Being around her, it was hard not to absorb some of her character.
On November 14, 2016, Savannah was struck and killed by a motor vehicle. It was an accident. The driver didn’t see her. It was dark and she was attempting to cross a 4-lane highway in Texas. She didn’t suffer. That I’m certain of. My heart still breaks for this driver; knowing the burden that he must carry on his shoulders on a day to day basis.
Do you ever get over it? Yes and no. The initial shock of knowing that she was gone was overwhelming. More than overwhelming; it was suffocating. The realisation that I would never get the opportunity to become entrapped in her glorious presence again was a tough pill to swallow. It weighed so heavy on my soul that I felt as if I had been placed in cement shoes, bound by all my extremities and thrown overboard to the ocean floor. I never thought I would get past that feeling of gasping for air; for her air.
Kathy Kelly speaks to Mia Freedman about the loss of her sons, Stuart and Thomas, on No Filter. Post continues after audio.
Two years later I can breathe again. I am no longer the same person that I once was. I still cry from time to time looking through the pictures of our life together. Sometimes just the thought of her completely takes control of all of my senses and fills my heart with so much love and adoration. I’ve become stronger. Better. More capable. These moments of sadness are a reminder to me that in her life, she changed me. And in her death, she also changed me.
I realised that a lot of Savannah’s qualities were actually perfected versions of the values that I had raised her with. Because of this, I tweaked my own morals to better exemplify some of hers.
I learned to live harder, love deeper, and to never hold back. She was, and still is, one of my greatest mentors. When I think about her right in this nanosecond my heart fills with so much love that it takes away my breath, but in a good way. She was vibrant. I want to be just like her when I grow up.
What I’m trying to say is that you might never get over the death of a child; but it will change you. She will change you. She did when she was there, and she still does to this day when she’s not tangibly here. I get goosebumps openly admitting this.
I carry her soul with me everywhere I go.
This post originally appeared on Quora, and has been republished with full permission. You can view the original article here.