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  • Writer's pictureRachelle Jervis

Day 100

Updated: Jun 26, 2019



People discuss grief in stages. They think about it as if you’re moving through phases of the moon until, with the completion of the full moon, all is revealed. For me, every day I feel denial, despair, anger—all the feelings. It’s a real shit show.


Today is a significant day in the loss of my miraculous daughter Constance because it is 100 days since her passing. It is also the day the realtor finally picked up the keys to the house so it can be listed.


One of my big projects for 2018 was going to be remodeling Constance’s bathroom. I ambitiously took on remodeling the second first-floor bathroom when I got a beautiful tub for it for next to nothing from a friendly salesperson. I wanted to remodel Constance’s bathroom so it would be a comfortable place for her to work on independently mastering her hygiene routine and gaining some privacy.


When Constance passed suddenly, we weren’t able to have people over to the house because both first-floor bathrooms were under construction. After Constance passed, contractors finished the work and a dozen other things the realtor wanted fixing. It became financially and emotionally exhausting.


It was a kick in the teeth to see Constance’s bathroom transformed and her not able to use it. I hate myself for not getting the renovations done for her sooner.


There was never a question of whether I wanted to sell the house. Math dictates that I have to. The funny thing about mortgage companies is they don’t take good vibes.


After Constance passed, it was astonishingly painful to be moving things out of the house and fixing it up to sell it. However, I think that I would have had that pain anywhere.


Constance’s father had to take several work trips abroad in the last 100 days, and his heart was shattered everywhere he went.


Constance was my home. A house is a house is a house.


Now that it’s being listed, I hope that another family fills the house with joyful memories. I want another kid to love Constance’s bathroom. I want them to grow up, move out, and appreciate it when they come back to visit their parents. I want someone else to have that dream.

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