Automatic Pilot

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Automatic pilot.....that's exactly what I feel like, as if perhaps, everytime, the first week of April comes, someone flips on a switch. A switch I don't seem to have any control of, it just gets turned on, and with it comes all these things rushing back. Feelings, smells, words, people, it all comes back, taking hold of me, like a prisoner. My heart is heavy, and my mind is racing, I even feel sick to my stomach, and the tears, well, they just come and go on their own, like I said, automatic pilot. The calendar God's this year, would have it, that April 1st, is once again on a Sunday, just as it was 11 years ago, and so the rest of the days will also coincide accordingly. Right until Wednesday the 4th, the day I gave birth to Emma,  the day we buried her. I will live the next four days, hour by hour, and with each passing second that goes by, another wound will open up, just as it has every year since. Like a hurt animal, I will once again, lick my wounds, and wait, wait to heal again.. I will be still and quiet, and mourn her, but I will also mourn the woman who died, the day she died. The old me. I have tried to get back there, I have, but it's not possible, something is missing, a piece of me, I believe it's a piece of my heart. I will wait patiently, the next couple of days, knowing, the Lord  has got me in the palm of his hand, I will wait, until, the switch, the automatic pilot is turned off, once again.

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