As I am sitting in your room, with Faith at my feet, and your favorite candle lit, I’m struggling to find the strength to face a new year without you. Turning the page onto a fresh new year simply feels daunting, excruciatingly difficult, and just not the same. As much as I want to disengage from life and isolate myself thru the private nature of grief, life has a beautiful (and to be honest at times annoying) way of calling me back. I feel like these are little nudges from you reminding me to keep moving forward as if to say “Keep going mom! I’m still with you!”. And if I am really being stubborn you have a magical way of sending me people at just the right time to help carry the grief.
Your room has now become my sanctuary as it embodies the essence of your bright and beautiful spirit. With the posters of the Beatles, Queen, and Audrey Hepburn adorning your wall, I am reminded of how incredibly cool you are not only for an 11yr old, but in general. You were never influenced by what everyone else was into it. You have always been an old soul-unapologetically yourself. The Freddie Mercury figurine at your desk makes me giggle remembering the day we went shopping at FAO Schwartz in NYC as that was the only toy you chose for yourself.
Today school was out due to snow and power outages. Seems pretty crazy here since every day is a snow day. I know you would be excited to have an unexpected day off from school with Maisey and Gates. I would imagine you and I would bake cookies or maybe even a cake, and then arguments would ensue with your siblings over what to watch on TV. I would then encourage (force) us to play a card game, and you would be the only one to be excited to play. I miss those ordinary moments together because weaved into them would always be unexpected joy and laughter.
Do you remember when you and I made the snowman at our house in Charlotte? I believe we used strawberries and carrots for the face and of course we had to make her fancy with a feather boa and purple hat. Also do you remember when we had another snow day in Charlotte that barely lasted half a day, yet you went out in the snow (that had turned into rain) to make a snowman in the front yard. You had a magical way of making the most out of whatever was given.
I love and miss you, honey. You are my heart. I will be writing my P.S. just like you did when you signed one of my birthday cards. I’ll also sign it that way because it’s true.
I love you,
Mom
P.S. My favorite memory with you is everything.
Comments