Here. And Gone

Dear Aaron

I’m sitting here, heartbroken, next to you. 

29 weeks, twenty-nine.

And today I opened Facebook briefly before leaving work.

Rebekah is gone. But you probably met her at heaven’s gate. 

Rebekah is the reason so many of us found support, guidance, friendship. She was just a little more than a year older than you. When she was born, her mom couldn’t find any real support, no networks, no communities, so she set up really the first Trisomy Facebook group. And I found it. Many others did, too. Almost 5000 of us…

All because Susan was willing to reach out and share Rebekah.

And Rebekah was one that I really thought would live, well, (almost) forever. 

In fact, she was supposed to go home today, home to her family, not Home to Heaven. 

For the first time in a long time, I wept all the way home from work.

You know, Aunt Liz reminded me of what I said when you were born, and again when you left.

Both times I called and didn’t even greet her. 

On June 13, 2010, I said, “He’s here!”

And on December 23rd, it was simply, “He’s gone.”

Here.

Gone.

Never forgotten.

Oh, baby, I love you.

I miss you.

Love, 

Mama

Fly, fly little wing

Fly beyond imagining

The softest cloud, the whitest dove

Upon the wind of Heaven's love

“Fly” – Celine Dion