Dearest child,
A friend came up to me today and told me he had been looking at pictures I have of you on my Facebook account and my eyes filled with tears. It is so sweet to hear someone else talk about you and to know that you are remembered. You didn't believe that you mattered to anyone but you did and not only that, you were cared about by so many. I hope you can see and understand that now. Maybe we didn't show you enough at a time when you most needed to know you weren't alone, but I think it's a lesson for all of us: we can't let too much time pass without letting others in our lives know they are important to us. I believe we are here on earth to look after each other. Sometimes it's so much easier just to walk away from the tough stuff. In your last year, even though you were going through such a terrible time I watched you reach out to try to help and support a friend of yours. Did I ever tell you how moved I was by the compassion you showed? I was going to say I was proud of you but "proud" makes it about me, and that's not what I mean. I mean I saw you and that "There is a good man, a good soul". You were at your best caring for others. I wish you had felt that you deserved the same patience and compassion from yourself that you were able to share with others.
I am having to face returning to work at a time that I still feel very fragile so I've been thinking a lot lately about how I'm going to do it successfully. And as part of that I've been making myself listen to music of yours and reading your poetry. This is the stuff that still brings me to my knees but I have to be able to get up, even if it means falling again.
I treasure every second I had with you. Mom's get longer with their children than Dad's. I had you all to myself the nine months I carried you. I find myself still trying to figure out ways just to get a little more time with you. Can you feel that from where you are? Or are you just gone now? I can't bear that thought. You live on in my memory, in my heart and in my soul, so you will never be gone. You live on through your daughter, through your sisters who each have similarities to you.
I wish you were here with us this Easter season. This will be our second Easter without you. I miss you so very much.
I love you and wait for you to visit me in my dreams.
Always and forever,
Mom.
2 comments:
I don't read a lot of posts of yours without tearing up. This is another example. I am tearful as I type.
I wanted to say "I care" too. I don't know you in real life, but I come back here time and time again to check up on you, I think of you during my day, and I picture Michael every time I read your posts.
So, I wanted to let you know that even though I am coming into this late, and Michael is already gone, I care. I care about his story and your thoughts.
Have a good Easter, Andrea....
Michelle
I can't say that I know how you feel, but I have a son who is the world to me and I can imagine what it would be like to lose him - especially if it were by his own hand because he was feeling so much pain and saw no other way to stop it.
I think about you and Michael sometimes when I look at my son... building with legos or drawing or just sitting and stroking the cats. I imagine you looking at your son in the same way, with your heart bursting out of your chest because it's too full of love to be contained in such a fragile shell. And I cry for you - missing your boy.
Recently, I read "The Shack" and all the while, you were very much on my mind. I don't know if you've read it, but you might find it comforting. It's about a father who lost his daughter to violence and a very special weekend with God in several manifestations. I liked it. Perhaps you would too.
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