Eighteen.

Eighteen. Just a number, right? In my world right now, that number speaks--actually, it screams--volumes. April 24th marks eighteen months since I last held my daughter's hand in mine. Since I last kissed her cheek and stroked her hair. April 24th marks eighteen months since my sweet Paige went to be with Jesus. 18 months. 78 weeks. 547 days. It doesn't seem real, yet it truly is all too real. I have missed and thought about and grieved for that girl every single day since she left this earth. How could I not? Eighteen months ago I lost a piece of my heart that I won't get back until I join her in Heaven.

Once upon a time, I didn't cringe at the number eighteen. Paige was supposed to graduate this year as part of the Class of 2018. This was supposed to be a season of senior pictures, college plans, prom, graduation--the list goes on and on. This was supposed to be a time I hesitated to let her go, knowing all the while it was a necessary part of growing up. But my girl didn't get the chance to grow up. That chance was taken away by a form of aggressive leukemia that relentlessly attacked her over and over and over again. 

Paige would have turned 18 in August this year. She would have been an 'official' adult. She would have been starting school in pursuit of that nursing degree she wanted so very badly. She would have been checking off her 'To Do' list of plans as she met her future husband and sought a job at TCH to follow in the footsteps of nurses she absolutely adored. She would have done so many things. So many good things. She would have. Those words hurt me to my core. How do I manage to trudge through days that seem like they will never end? How do I keep going on days when I miss Paige so much I can barely breathe? 

One word: God.

When I struggle to make it through the day, He is here. When the waves of grief knock me to my knees, He is here.  When I am unsure of my next steps, God is here. He guides me and constantly shows me evidence of His goodness and mercy and grace. He gives me reminders I am not alone on this road that can sometimes seem incredibly lonely. He loves me on the good days and seems to pull me in even closer on the messy days. Without a doubt, He is my strength--always.

I find another source of strength in my incredible daughter.

Paige found joy in every single day. That smile--oh, that smile--could brighten any day and led to Paige being known as the "sunshine in the room" to so many who cared for her. After her second relapse, Paige displayed unmatched courage when she helped make decisions difficult for adults to fathom, much less a teenager.  Her brave, fighting spirit served as inspiration for people in and out of the hospital setting. From the very beginning, Paige was a determined young lady. She didn't know the word "quit" and faced every trial head-on. My girl fought hard every moment of every day--even in her last days. Paige was smart, strong, and oh-so-sassy. She is my heart. She is my hero.

I will work to follow Paige's lead the rest of my days. Like her, I will continue to lean on my faith. Like her, I will look for the joy in every day. There is joy to be found in the sweet memories of her. There is joy to be found in the days to come. Like my amazing daughter, I will hold on to hope. Hope for the future. Hope the sting of her absence lessens a little with time. Like Paige, I will remain determined. Determined to keep going--no matter what. 

Paige had a purpose in this world; she wanted to make a difference, and she did. She still is. Runners honoring her fight. Students organizing ways to help other childhood cancer families in Paige's memory. A community coming together to raise money for much-needed research for her type of leukemia. A mom who will not stop sharing her heartbreakingly beautiful story. 

Eighteen, you may knock me down--but you will not knock me out. I'll take my cues from the bravest girl I ever knew. I will be joyful. I will be patient. I will remain faithful. Thank you for the lesson, sweet girl. See you in a little bit.