Dear Jay,
It's been 11 months since I've written. I've wanted to write you numerous times. I haven't made time for it. Sometimes I avoid it. Writing is emotional, cathartic, sad, painful. It's a time to process my feelings and sometimes I just can't. Don't want to. Nearly two years later and it is still that hard, that painful at times. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you, wish you were here, wonder what life would be like if you were still here with us.
We moved. I love our new house. Moving was a good decision for us. It felt like a fresh start that I longed for in many ways. So, you can imagine my surprise when a wave of sadness hit me. It has stuck with me most of the month. I didn't expect it. I didn't see it coming. Grief is a long, hard journey full of the unexpected. I get it now - why moving brought out so many emotions. It marks a new chapter. One that does not include you, one that I never wanted. It feels like I'm accepting life as it is all over again. Life without you. I'll never like it. I'll never be okay with it. You've been gone nearly two years. That horrifies me. I can't figure out how time has passed so quickly.
Emery asks about you all the time. I try my best to answer her questions. She doesn't understand yet. She knows you are in heaven. She knows you live in her heart. She wonders when you are coming home. I wish she didn't have to ask questions about you. I wish she didn't have to figure it out. Tonight she fell asleep in my lap with her head on my shoulder. I just held her. It was the best moment of the weekend for me. Not because she was asleep, but because I got hold her and love her and for a moment, she was my baby again.
Cora is nearly 15 months. She doesn't let me rock her to sleep anymore. She's too wiggly. She's a ray of sunshine though. She's joyful and curious and sassy and loving. She has beautiful blue eyes. She throws food at the dinner table, hoards Cheerios, recognizes treats and squawks for them like no other. She waves at people like a queen. She could almost be Emery 2.0. I wish she had the opportunity to know you.
Our new neighborhood has lots of kids. We've been here less than a month and we've met a bunch of our neighbors already. Emery is amused by all the people riding bikes in the neighborhood. Arabelle loves to do cartwheels in the grass. Cora is happy on the driveway; she's not sure about the grass yet. The girls are happy. They have friends in the neighborhood. They ran around the yard squealing with laughter and delight the other night after some friends stopped by to say hello. This is why we moved. Watching them play and laugh and be carefree made my heart more happy than I can express.
I miss you. I miss our life. I miss holding your hand in the car. I think of that all time. I want to reach out for you, for your hand. I want to lean on you when I need some extra support. I miss the small things that made up our life together.
You are always in my heart. I love you.
Courtney
It's been 11 months since I've written. I've wanted to write you numerous times. I haven't made time for it. Sometimes I avoid it. Writing is emotional, cathartic, sad, painful. It's a time to process my feelings and sometimes I just can't. Don't want to. Nearly two years later and it is still that hard, that painful at times. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you, wish you were here, wonder what life would be like if you were still here with us.
We moved. I love our new house. Moving was a good decision for us. It felt like a fresh start that I longed for in many ways. So, you can imagine my surprise when a wave of sadness hit me. It has stuck with me most of the month. I didn't expect it. I didn't see it coming. Grief is a long, hard journey full of the unexpected. I get it now - why moving brought out so many emotions. It marks a new chapter. One that does not include you, one that I never wanted. It feels like I'm accepting life as it is all over again. Life without you. I'll never like it. I'll never be okay with it. You've been gone nearly two years. That horrifies me. I can't figure out how time has passed so quickly.
Emery asks about you all the time. I try my best to answer her questions. She doesn't understand yet. She knows you are in heaven. She knows you live in her heart. She wonders when you are coming home. I wish she didn't have to ask questions about you. I wish she didn't have to figure it out. Tonight she fell asleep in my lap with her head on my shoulder. I just held her. It was the best moment of the weekend for me. Not because she was asleep, but because I got hold her and love her and for a moment, she was my baby again.
Cora is nearly 15 months. She doesn't let me rock her to sleep anymore. She's too wiggly. She's a ray of sunshine though. She's joyful and curious and sassy and loving. She has beautiful blue eyes. She throws food at the dinner table, hoards Cheerios, recognizes treats and squawks for them like no other. She waves at people like a queen. She could almost be Emery 2.0. I wish she had the opportunity to know you.
Our new neighborhood has lots of kids. We've been here less than a month and we've met a bunch of our neighbors already. Emery is amused by all the people riding bikes in the neighborhood. Arabelle loves to do cartwheels in the grass. Cora is happy on the driveway; she's not sure about the grass yet. The girls are happy. They have friends in the neighborhood. They ran around the yard squealing with laughter and delight the other night after some friends stopped by to say hello. This is why we moved. Watching them play and laugh and be carefree made my heart more happy than I can express.
I miss you. I miss our life. I miss holding your hand in the car. I think of that all time. I want to reach out for you, for your hand. I want to lean on you when I need some extra support. I miss the small things that made up our life together.
You are always in my heart. I love you.
Courtney
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