I am just going along about my day.. getting home from the park trying to rush in to clean off the kids sandy feet and put Charlotte down for nap.. But since I am right there I figure I can get the mail.
Its like suddenly being splashed in the face with cold water. The shock and the charge of it rushing through my body. I am disoriented .. I am struggling to catch my breath and I am frozen in place. The sting of it bringing sharp tears to my eyes.
Just for a moment. . though I have to get inside and take care of my 3 living.. I feel like I am carrying my limping heart in my hands along with a diaper bag and a handful of mail. The irony.
A day of remembrance for children that were also patients like my Jennifer at Lucille Packard. She died..
A card from the kids dentist. Addressed just to her. She lived.
I find myself looking at it constantly throughout the day. Running my hands over her typewritten name. And right now.. alone looking at it again I remember how she suffered so much in the end.. But I also remember how she lived.
A normal little girl. With a pediatrician and a dentist. She loved digging in the dirt looking for worms she would then run away from. She loved painting and trying on all of the shoes in the house at some point during the day. She loved getting a piece of mail addresses just to her. I think it made her feel special and important.. official. It elicits all those same emotions in my right now.
The kids would gather all around her as she opened it up.. clawing at her to see what it was. She would at first hide it from them.. But after a moment she would read it to them.. because now she would be in first grade .. she would be reading.
I remember when she was part of a sticker club.. how much she looked forward to getting that little piece of mail. And when she was finally tall enough to reach all the way into the mailbox all by herself. It was her job.. I warned her it wouldn’t always be.. one day she would have to share. She never did though. Its been passed onto Jonathan full time.
How I long to hear them fighting over whose turn it is to get the mail..
I have looked at it countless times today. Her name in black and white lettering. Simple typing.
It steals my breath every time.
She died. but…
what a life it was baby girl
vibrant. exciting. normal. dramatic.
delicious. silly. outloud.
…until there is a cure..