The holidays have come and gone. We survived.
But I don’t really have time to catch my breath. Because now the countdown begins. To the official start of our 3rd year without her. That thought makes me choke and gag. Its a horrible notion.
its my vile truth.
2 years ago right now I still had some hope. That maybe.. maybe my Jennifer would be the one. The first to beat this thing. That we would have time for more memories and experiences. That we made all the right choices. Choosing to try radiation. To have Tony keep working so we could take that time later on .. to be with her while she was healthy not in treatment.
I will always carry a guilt that I think I pushed for him to do that… To work while I took care of her medical needs.. then take time once we came home again.
But by then it was already too late. He missed nearly 2 months of her last 3.5 months of life..
I wonder if he will always blame me a little for that too?
She was just so little .. and such a big fighter. I couldn’t imagine her not being bigger than this thing. We were at Stanford. The best of the best doctors .. How could they not save her? How could we not have that time? I just didn’t know. I guess maybe I couldn’t have known. It was too big.
it still is most days i think
I think she did though. I think she always knew she was getting worse. But I wonder if she knew what not getting better meant.
I have so many questions for her..
I don’t want to wait my lifetime to have them answered.
Im tired of kissing a headstone and saying sorry to a block of granite. I want to hold her hand.. feel her long fingers interlocked in mine and say sorry to her. I want to know if she was scared. I want to know if I did the right things. I want to know .. to know her still..
All I know is the memories. .. the recordings.. the pictures.
We gave the kids their build a bears she made them on Christmas. She made them with my sister for all of us. I had to walk around the mall so she could surprise us with them. She loved surprises and she loved shopping! She picked out every single accessory for each of our animals, I can’t even imagine what Auntie paid for them. And she locked her voice inside each one. Her sweet love for each of us.
We gave them to the kids and now its their nighttime ritual. To press their animals hand to hear their sister speak to just them. But they are careful how much they do it.. Because we are all scared for the day the technology gives out. And these fucking stuffed animals become like our everyday.
We push and we reach for her.. But we can’t hear her anymore..
So we limit our usage.. to try and stretch it out. .. We know that her voice is precious. And we savor it. We inhale it. We try to feel it with every ounce of our being.
But not Bridgette. She wasn’t here yet. She will never have a picture with her sister. She will never get to hear her say I love you.. she will have no Jennifer coined nickname.
I hope that’s ok for her. I hope I can help her through those struggles. I hope I can help her know she was so very wanted and never meant to be a replacement for her oldest sister.
A mix of those two things.. my fear to lose her voice and the guilt that Bridgette doesn’t get it has stopped me from taking mine out of the box yet..
so now I’m guessing
what do you say to me
i love you mom
…until there is a cure..