Monday, February 11, 2013

Love Like It's Your Last Day

Peanut -

While Momma still talks to you every day, the letters posted on this blog have become more and more rare.  Why is that?  Well, lately Momma has realized that someday your little brother will probably read these letters and do the math...he will understand how much Momma was grieving while still experiencing the joy of his life.  And I've realized that as much as my Momma-heart has grown to understand that conflict and confusion will forever be a part of this experience, I can never expect The Pickle to comprehend those layers.

Over the last few weeks your little brother has been struggling with lots of little colds, runny noses, coughs, and low-grade fevers....just like you in late 2010 and early 2011.  He has had a hard time with day care trying to force him to one nap a day...just like you.  He has started walking and talking, which has led to an interrupted sleep pattern...just like you.  He has discovered a love of goldfish crackers, macaroni and cheese, peanut butter, and meatballs...just like you.

Day-by-day, Momma rediscovers some joy and some heartbreak from two years ago buried in her head and heart for protection.  The grief of two years ago has been vividly reawakened by not just the two year milestone of your death, but your little brother catching up...faster than anticipated.

I am remembering the moments long forgotten from that awful morning when I stood in the shower and saw Dadda standing outside holding you in his arms, outstretched, sobbing.  I was convinced you were playing peek-a boo. Until your utter stillness hit me and I jumped out and held you to my skin.  My warmth would save you, just like skin-to-skin contact with newborns.  I remember screaming, "No, not my little boy...not him..." until the paramedics arrived.  I remember trying to do CPR.  I remember your eyes, already lifeless.  Honestly, I remember too much.

So, while your brother battles these colds and sniffles, Momma finds herself convinced he is not going to survive.  Crazy, right?  Maybe.

But, I know this.  While you were on this earth, and now as an angel, I love you with every fiber of my being.  I know there were times when I let you see my frayed edges.  When I was an impatient Momma.  But the's overwhelming.  I try to let it bleed into everything I say and do.  To make me kinder, more patient.  To remember...everyone has a story.  In short, to love and live like I might never see people/friends/family again.

Peanut, you humble me every day.  I see the shadow of your 3 1/2 year old self playing in my shadows, much like Peter Pan.  I feel your arms around my neck, giving me one of your famous Connor hugs.  In short, you are alive in my heart.

Missing you so very, very, very much.  I love you, to the moon - and back.

- Momma

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