July 4, 2024
When Love Meets Helplessness: A Reflection on Loss and Longing

Today, the weight of the past presses heavily on my heart. It's been two years since my niece, Macie, was tragically taken from us in a 4th of July Parade accident. Two years of unimaginable pain and grief for my family, a wound that time can never fully heal.

For me, the pain is amplified by a cruel twist of fate. Two years ago, I was trapped in prison, battling a severe medical condition that had me hospitalized and robbed me of my memory and cognitive abilities. When I finally regained enough strength to make a phone call, I learned of Macie's death.

The news shattered me. I was helpless, trapped in a cage while my family grieved the loss of their precious daughter and sister. A prisoner not only of the physical bars that confined me, but also of the emotional torment that ravaged my soul. I couldn't attend the funeral, I couldn't watch the livestream, I couldn't even view the archived video. 

Denied closure and shackled by grief, I was excruciatingly aware even Donny Osmond got to go to the funeral, where he sang Josh Grobin's "To Where You Are" and explained how Macie had made him feel like a winner.

I begged, pleaded, and filed countless requests to watch the video, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. The system, cold and unyielding, refused to grant me even a moment of solace, a chance to say goodbye to my beloved niece.

The pain of that isolation, that powerlessness, nearly broke me. It was a wound on top of a wound, a grief compounded by the inability to mourn with my family, to offer my sister the comfort she so desperately needed.

My mind became a battleground of anguish as the past collided with the present. Mom's fading breaths as she lay dying, the haunting melody of the same Grobin song that my sister wanted to play, and my begging, "Please don't" - the chilling echo of Aunt Lynn's tragic end in front Donny Osmond's studio— after she played that song on repeat to deal with her husband's death - it was all too much, a ruthless assault on my sanity.

Today, as the anniversary of Macie's death looms large, I find myself facing a similar heartache. Someone I love deeply is struggling with their own immense loss, and I'm unable to be there for him in the way I so desperately want to. I yearn to comfort him, to hold him close, to offer the support that I so whole-heartedly know is needed. It's a painful reminder of my own helplessness, a trigger that brings back the raw emotions of that dark time.

I'm reminded of the fragility of life, the unpredictability of fate, and the cruel irony of being unable to offer comfort when it's most needed. It's a heavy burden to carry, a grief that resurfaces with each passing year.

But I won't let this pain consume me. I'll honor Macie's memory by cherishing the precious moments and by living a life filled with love, compassion, and purpose. I'll continue to support my family, even from afar, and I'll hold onto the hope that someday, I'll be able to offer the comfort and support to my loved ones that was denied to me during my darkest hour.


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* Yes I am fully aware this is not the Grobin song mentioned above.  Showcasing "You Raise Me Up" instead, is intentional ❤️

#MacieHill #FlyHighWithMacie #RememberingMacie #Grief #Loss #Healing #UnconditionalLove #RaiseMeUp