ELLIE L. H. MACKAY
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The Big Day

12/5/2018

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Finally, in a sleep deprived, anxiety-riddle haze, after all the song and dance and circus of it, after all the stress and clenched jaws and held breath and tension, I was alone at home. The events of the day suddenly dissipated, melting away like a fog clearing under a heavy grey sky. Slowly, I sat down on my bed, and I wept.

I wept for the loss of her. I wept for the celebration we were unable to give her. I wept for the bleak and impenetrable future, and the fact that we had been unable to reach her - a powerlessness worse than any I've known previously. And I wept for the sadness I now share with him, a bond neither of us wanted but with which we are now indefinitely saddled. As though we have both been unwillingly drafted into a war with no end in sight, we now face the world together but without the one rock who has bonded us for a lifetime. It is unsettling, and sharp, and distressing. But under it all, under all the anger and confusion and grief, it is a heavy, aching sadness. And so, until the sun rises and quiets my tears, I weep.
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    Ellie has been writing her whole life - journals, poems, short stories, scripts... allowing words to flow has been a constant cathartic process for her. This blog is an outlet for her writing, no more, no less.

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​- Clementine Paddleford (and Ellie's mummy!)

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