August 31, 2012

My Dearest Ella:

 

Happy Birthday, my darling, and Happy Angel Day. Today is your day. I cannot believe you have been gone from us for seven years.  I can see your face and feel you in my arms as if you had only arrived today.

 

I’m left feeling very different today than on your earlier birthdays.  The time and space between us seems so enormous; it’s hard not to feel helpless in my grief.  My memories are as vivid as the day you arrived—I recall every moment of your arrival and departure, and all the time surrounding your day.  I see it in my head like a movie on an automatic loop.  I think that’s why I always say that a part of me left with you, because we are forever connected in heart, soul and mind.  Not a day goes by that I don’t think of you, both who you were and who you might have become, and ache to hold you, laugh with you, love you and comfort you when the world around you caused you pain.  The best I can do is to continue my forever love, but it never feels like enough.

 

You know we always bring you gifts on your birthday—tokens of where you might be in your life had you stayed with us.  But this year we are empty-handed.  After hours of contemplating what might be the best way to honor your special day, I came to realize that a gift would be impossible, because we can’t possible know who you would have grown to be in your young life.  It’s so strange to feel as though I don’t know my own child, but the truth is that these feelings are part of the reason I have such an enormous ache in my heart. Selfishly, I feel cheated out of the joy of watching you grow and develop into your own person with her own passions, fears, friends, sense of humor, and much, much more.  Of course I would have been elated if you had been interested in the same things that move my heart, but I would have been just as happy and proud to support you as you followed your own heart.

 

I miss you every day.  I’ve said that before, but it’s the only way I have to convey how ever present you are in my mind and heart.  I cannot see another little girl without feeling a void next to me.  The world seems to be filled landmines that tug at my heartstrings and challenge my strength.  Perhaps it’s because we were together for every moment of your time on earth.  It’s as if we had to force a lifetime of love into 35 weeks.  The feelings are more intense and more pervasive than I can ever hope to communicate.  

 

I can’t tell you how I wish I were preparing to see you off to second grade with your brothers on Tuesday.  I can picture the three of you running off to join your friends, excited for a new year and new teachers.  I can even imagine your brothers teasing you and giggling as you run off.  Despite the teasing, I know Brian would look out for you and Brady would do everything to keep up with you and be a part of your world.  It seems like such a simple wish, yet it’s the most impossible wish I can have. 

 

I could keep writing forever, because my feelings about you flow through my heart and mind constantly.  Every victory is a little bit hollow and every sadness a bit deeper because of your absence. Just know that if love could have healed your body, you would have been a happy, healthy 7 year old girl living in a home filled with love and laughter. 

 

 

We love you, we miss you, and we remember you every day. But today is your day.

 

Forever and always-

Love,

Mommy