Existing in Joy
Simplest Memories
I was blessed to have had 20 wonderful years with my daughter, Morgan Leah McCarty.
Do I wish I had more?
Certainly. I cherish the precious time I had with her and would have wanted it to go on forever. But the bond I formed with Morgan cannot be broken, not even by death.
I still miss the sound of her voice and the stories she shared.
I miss the playfulness of her laughter and her love of fashion.
I miss her eyes full of expectation and wonder.
But I will live with her love alive in my heart, and the memories will last forever.
Each day, I try to be a “little more like Morgan”—more kind, more loving, more giving, more fun. The peace that passes all understanding enables me to remember her with joy and smiles instead of dwelling on the heartache, loss, and tears.
I’ve learned that it’s up to me to see the love that remains and to celebrate it every day.
I’ve found that, little by little, grieving parents can find joy again.
Of course, the transition isn’t easy. And it takes time.
Yes, the scars will remain tender for as long as we live. The pain won’t ever completely heal.
But that jagged wound of grief won’t always be the fresh, deep hurt it is at first. With faith and hope, it will transform into a constant reminder that we have survived unbearable trauma but that we are still here, living one day at a time in memory and in honor of the child we loved and lost.
I know it may seem impossible to envision a future without your beloved child. But let me encourage you to get up every morning, take a deep breath, and start the day without them in it.
Morgan’s “chair” at the dinner table is permanently empty. Her vacant room is hard to glance into when I pass. Her high school picture is still in view. All of this brings a flood of happy and sad memories, sometimes threatening to sink me again.
But I thank God for the occasional night when I see her in my dreams. Usually, she appears as a young child, playing happily, as she did when she was growing up. Following those dreams, I always wake up smiling, grateful to have had such a beautiful vision and visit, knowing that even death cannot keep her from me.
Though I will grieve the death of my daughter forever, my life is not lacking in joy and happiness. Just the opposite, though I admit it took a long time to get there.
Today, my life is exuberantly rich again, as it was before Morgan’s tragic death.
I live from a deeper place now, and I love deeper still.
Because I have experienced such immeasurable grief, I have come to know joy like no other. Since dragging myself back from the pits of pure hell, overcoming such intense pain and sorrow, now, when joy comes, it explodes with a new meaning and thankfulness.
You too can learn to celebrate each positive moment in your life with such robust gusto, taking nothing for granted. Knowing the sacred preciousness of life gives me more of a reason to be thankful for what I have every single day.
I hold on to the smallest, most familiar anchors.
I remember the everyday details that might seem insignificant to others but mean everything to a mother.
I remember her leaning against my shoulder, the scent of her hair, and the
feeling of her hand tucked in mine. I remember her laughter and the way she
rushed into the room, eager to share a new story. I still love the music she
loved, and hearing those songs always brings back a piece of her to me.
A paper mache angel hangs in my kitchen window and makes me smile,
reminding me of the delicate artwork she created in elementary school.
Her kindergarten painting of a queen wearing a beautiful crown is
framed and brightens my day.
I also use a mousepad with a picture
of her and my son on it, so even in the middle of an ordinary day,
I feel her presence close to me.
The angel, the painting, and the mousepad are all visual keepsakes.
They reflect the simple pleasure of life together.
I encourage you to gather strength from your simplest memories.
It will bring joy to your journey.
This is a beautiful tribute to Morgan. Your being "a little more like Morgan" continues her legacy of kindness. You have so many connections to her. Like you with Morgan, I too listen to songs that my daughter Alix loved and bring her back to me. I love the image of a paper mache angel hanging in your kitchen. I have angels all over my house.