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.
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.”
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