It happened again today. The 15th came. That moment five months ago when you passed once again sat in front of me. I was with our girl.
How did I get here? How has it been this long? There is this huge part of me that finds it inconceivable.

The spot on the floor where your heavy bed sat for a year is gone. The indentations fading over time. I know where your bed sat, but the room no longer holds your weight. It's one more piece of you that isn't here anymore.

Kate wants to know if you got the balloons that other little girl lost. As soon as she saw that little girl let go of the baloons Kate knew they were going to you. I couldn't believe how sweet she was when she told that little girl her Daddy would take care of her balloons.

I know you were there with us at JacksonFest. I saw that beautiful peek in the clouds and the moon that rose over the trees... that was your smile for sure. Your brothers continue to honor you. They stay close to each other and to Kate and I. Offering support, love, stories of you, and a place to share the pain inside my heart.

I taught Kate the proper way to hold hands. She now reaches for my hand to cross the street and instantly gives it 3 long squeezes. 'I. love. you.' Just the way we did it. Her little hand, grasped in mine, giving me that piece of you... perfection.

I see so much of you in her.

I know I've said this before but it's stronger every day. Even our friends and family are seeing it too. For her first three years all we heard was how much she looked like me, it's time for her too look a little more like her daddy. I just wish she would find your calm, your peace. She absolutely has your compassion and your humor but she's still got my short fuse. You called it, spunk. Mom calls it payback and I call it frustration. She would have you in stitches.

Kate's been talking to me about heaven a lot lately. I know you've heard her when she's asked you to not be mad at her for not coming to heaven too. Don't worry, I assure her that you wouldn't ever be mad at her. I assure her (and myself) that she won't be able to see you again for a very long while but that you're always with us.
She knows you're her angel. Just as she was your angel here on earth.

I'm doing everything I can to find positive, just like you always did. Starting your foundation, raising awareness and money, spending time with our daughter and being enough of a mom for her that maybe the void you've left is lessened just a tiny bit.
I say your words all the time and I'm trying to live them.
"There is nothing you cannot do. Only thing you may choose not to do. Make your choice."


Anonymous –   – (August 18, 2011 at 3:48 PM)  

I don't know if you've read it, but 90 Minutes in Heaven is a fantastic book. I lost my mom 3 days after you lost your husband. I admire your strength and your love for your daughter, she is beautiful. I keep you both in my thoughts and prayers.

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