Passed away

Something has been bothering me lately. Well really that's an understatement- might be better to write a post on what HASN'T been bothering me. In the past few weeks, on the rare occasion that it comes up with complete strangers, it has become second nature to say Goose passed away in October. Passed away. It's a perfectly nice term for old people. People who lived a long, full, life. They passed in their sleep, They passed peacefully. They passed surrounded by loved ones. Passed away seems natural. Goose didn't pass away. Her body pulled her under. I am almost certain that her soul and her mind were 100% not ready to leave this world. But her little body was just so broken. There was nothing that can make me think that anything that happened in that 12 hours was peaceful or calm. I cannot even begin to fathom the pain my baby girl was in. But what else can you say? Her body murdered her. But, honestly, I think that might be a bit brash. Random strangers don't want to know what really happened in that half of a day. In fact, I'm sure that most here don't even know. I'm not sure that anyone ever will that wasn't there. But, please, know this. My baby girl didn't pass away. She was stolen from this world, and I'm not sure there will ever be a time when I can accept that and be okay with it. Ever.

There is nothing I don't love about this photo. Her signature rolled eyes and wry, little smile. She was a fighter. My little warrior princess. My Goosey girl.