Grief

Memory Returning After Loss

I’m remembering him again. Tonight I remembered his voice. I could remember how he said my name and would call me Camila Khanoom, Camila Queen. I could remember his kiss. I could remember his smile. 

It is amazing how trauma damages the brain. I know I’ve been in complete shock. From the day he died until today, more than five months later, I couldn’t remember his voice. 

As we wandered around today, every step brought another memory. A time, a look, a kiss, and then finally his voice. 

I’m the one wandering around with a random tear in my eye, as I generally appear to be working just like everyone else. 

Except I’m thinking of my murdered love and remembering his life that was too precious for words. 

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About Camila

From the mountains of North Carolina. New widow of a man from Iran. Mother of one precious girl. Anti-human trafficking expert. Pro-life leader. Sister to 16 siblings. Daughter of God.

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