Something happened today that was somewhat magical. It was that little ray of light, that reminder of all the love you brought to this world, confirmation that your impact and presence live on in ways Momma cannot even begin to imagine.
You see, Momma writes these letters to you never truly thinking about who else might be reading. The hope is always that another family, another Momma, another bereaved parent or spouse or sibling or best friend might find a little piece of help, hope, wisdom, or peace from what I write to you.
Over the last 18 months friends, family and readers have reached out to share their own memories, stories and emotions sparked by something written on these pages. But, as time has passed, those touch-points have become fewer and fewer. Momma can still see the number of readers on a daily basis, but communication is fairly one-sided.
Until today. Today Momma learned during a meeting at work how your story, these letters, and your Peanut Effect continue to impact people on a daily basis. People who have lost everything. A spouse. A child. Maybe both. And in their fog of despair and sorrow were able to find a sliver of solace. To find one Momma who walked through the fire and made the decision to survive...and eventually, live. To honor her Peanut. To honor you.
Peanut, you continue to touch the world with your love, brilliant smile, tight hugs and goofy, yet magical, laugh. Sending you loads and loads and bunches of noodles of Momma love - to the moon and back!
|One of the last photos I took of Peanut, on January 20, 2011. Full of joy eating chicken, rice and veggies!|