Sunday, March 2, 2025

March 2nd Through the Years

Dear Aaron,

It's March 2nd, 2nd day of Trisomy month.

Through the years...



Dinner time

You thought "Anger" was so funny. Honestly,
I don't think anger was ever an
emotion you experienced.


Showing up for a same-day surgery
that ultimately wasn't same day.







Your van meant freedom, freedom to go
freedom to see, freedom to experience.

 My angel boy, you are amazing. As hard as it is to learn to live without you, I cannot imagine never having known you, loved you, being taught by you. Your life was a true gift to me and to all who knew you.

Love,
Mama

life is a graceful soaring
death a graceful landing
~Terri Guillemets 



Saturday, March 1, 2025

March 1st - Trisomy Month

Dear Aaron, 

It's March 1st, the beginning of trisomy month. 

Somehow, somehow, I feel like I need to contribute, and yet it still hurts so badly. 

I see your smiling face, that "hope" bib that now hangs in my room. 

I felt you this week, next to me, as I drove to the hospital for my meeting, the hospital you never saw yet left your fingerprints all over.

It's been open a year now but it doesn't feel like home the way the main campus does. 

And yet, even though you're gone, there are so many here, many who would not be here if not for you and your tenacity, and your spunk, and your crazy wonderful sense of humor. 

So I feel like I'm letting them down when I don't contribute. There's so much happening in politics and I just don't have the bandwidth to advocate right now. I'm finding I pull back, try to ground myself where I am, just to keep from falling apart.

And other times, it doesn't hurt quite so much, or at least so sharply. I see you and Gramma everywhere: your bib, my watchband, the butterflies I wear, my bracelet, the blanket Gramma embroidered for me, the framed quote she gave me, the heart jewelry box that lights up with "Always Remember I Love you" and the woman in prayer she gave me many, many years ago. And so many other mementos, reminders that I am loved and richly blessed. 

I miss you, Aaron, and I miss Gramma. I am so, so grateful for your love, your teachings, and yes, your wonderful quirky smile and sense of humor. You found joy in everything and everyone. Your love was tangible, uplifting, refining. And I guess that's part of why it hurts so much that you're not here with us now.  

As I drove home this week, the setting sun turned the mountain snow pink. Your grave is decorated for St Patrick's day. Shamrocks, "gold" coins, green flowers and a little garden gnome (I couldn't find a leprechaun). You are my very own good luck charm. May I remember to smile through the tears and find strength.

I love you.

Love,
Mama

“I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death. They continue to participate in every act, thought, and decision we make. Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories.”

Leo Buscaglia