Mind Games

By Elena Matyas

When I woke around 3:30 a.m., I heard Roxie’s sound machine. I eagerly headed towards her room.

She’s back!

Before crossing the threshold from the hallway, I realized it was a dream. I grabbed Roxie’s stuffed “Bolt” (movie character dog) from her bed and sobbed quietly, trying not to awaken Doug. Sleep has been a precious commodity for both of us since June 28th.

Grief overpowers rational thinking. As we sit at our computers working on this website, our minds wander, thinking through ways to bring Roxie back. We relive the morning of June 28th and pour over every detail we know about her drowning, believing that we can change the outcome. After all, Roxie was a miracle baby and had overcome so much with the strength of our love.

Surely, we can change this, right?

We’ve experienced three months without her, and we’ve had enough. We are ready for her to come home so we can be a family again – eating cereal, walking to school, listening to stories of new friends and new lessons, finding new rocks for her collection, marveling over her expressions as she takes a bite of something she has never eaten before at dinner, giggling at the funny part of the cartoon she’s watched a hundred times, arguing over brushing teeth, reading her favorite books, hugging and kissing goodnight.

And then doing so again as she comes out of her room to ask for “one last hug, Momma?”

We will continue to fantasize about turning back time. Because right now, the heartache is almost too unbearable to live in the moment.