Bubba Misses You, Too

Dear Analin,

My mom asked me the other day if it was too late to send a sympathy card a week after a colleague of hers had lost her father. I told her absolutely not. Sometimes those delayed sympathies can mean more than the ones that come right away. They're a reminder to us that we're not the only ones who remember, and it reminds us we're not alone even though our grief goes on beyond that week of 'bereavement leave.'

At the beginning of the month I received a sympathy package from my beautiful blogging buddies, +Tena Carr, +Leanne Sype and +Nicole Pyles. It was full of different keepsakes, but the one that has been used the most is a beautiful throw. Joshua got it out with a big smile and I told him about the box it came in. The blanket had come with it's own note - when you wrap this around your shoulders, we hope you feel yourself wrapped in a hug. Joshua immediately covered himself neck to toes and announced, 'I feel Analin hugging me, Mommy!'

Sympathies and condolences can be too heavy right after a loss. Honestly, at that time, silent presence and support may be more the answer. Later, when the pain still hurts but isn't quite as raw, when sympathies can be heard with less of a bitter ear, that may be when they are needed most, yet not given because they'd been spent too early.

In our case, it was another reminder for your now 5-year-old brother, and a way for us to help keep you alive in our family through memory. Another memory we could make with you, even though you're not here. And that is what's so special about other people remembering you. That is why I love talking about you. Because the more people know and remember you, the more memories that can come from it.

Here's to a million more memories and then some.

Love,

Mommy.

Re-Introductions

Dear Analin,

I've been reminded lately about a blogging challenge somewhere out there where we're meant to re-introduce ourselves. It's in part for new followers of the blog and in part to help reconnect us to those we've known for a while.

I'm beginning to feel like I need to re-introduce myself to the people in my every day life. I've written before how losing you has made me really look at myself. I've become more opinionated - not because I never had opinions, but because I was more content to keep them to myself before. I've become bolder - reaching out to people where I usually keep to myself.

For example, we were at Cedar Point this past weekend and I saw a man with a baby footprint tattoo and a name on his forearm. I asked him if he'd lost a baby, and he said no, it was his little girl's footprint. He has his other daughter's on the other arm. I told him it was beautiful and apologized. We'd lost a baby recently, so that's why I'd gone there. There was no conversation after that. I kept waiting for the embarrassed feeling I usually get for chatting with a stranger and feeling like I overstepped, but I didn't. I wasn't embarrassed for reaching out, or even for talking briefly about our loss. It was just something I needed to do in that moment, and it was fine.

I've been a bit more aggressive with people these days, too. I'm not willing to put up with as much as I used to, such as when I feel taken advantage of, or more specifically, when I feel others I care about are being taken advantage of.

Heck, forget re-introducing myself to others. Sometimes when I look in the mirror and think about these changes, I don't really recognize myself.

Self empowerment, maybe. Maybe a touch of desperation. In ways, I'm proud of myself and I like it. In others, some of these tendencies are so outside my comfort zone I feel the need to stop myself and ask what it is I'm really doing, and what am I doing it for?

So far, no harm has come from it. I hope these changes settle down and settle in without taking me too far away from myself. Or rather, help me become a stronger and more steady form of myself. That would be nice. Being able to say no and mean it, being able to stand up for myself even when doing so might 'rock the boat' unnecessarily, these are things I think I could do more with. Perhaps your loss has given me the key to being able to find it.

Life happens, of course, and changes do as well. I guess your loss was just so big and these changes are so sudden ... it's all a shock. Some days I think I'm still in shock. Others, I know I am. I am sure it will all settle in. When and how are the questions.

Oh, but I miss you. <3 All these silly and not-so silly thoughts and it comes down to missing you. I know that won't change even with everything else going crazy.

Forever, Love.

Mommy.

Hiding

Dear Analin,

I know it's been a long time. I've been writing letters in my head, but they haven't made it to here for many reasons. One, and perhaps the most important, has been that I've just wanted to withdraw from the outer world. We've also been super busy, so there have been a lot of excuses to stay away.

Oh, the year has been tough. Sebastian's second birthday. Mother's day. Daddy got me two handmade owl notebooks from you with metal owls decorating the front. A wedding too similar to the one we'd been at the day we lost you, the day before you were born. My cousin's baby shower for her little girl - I only managed five minutes and yelled at Mimi because she asked me why I had to leave. Joshua's fifth birthday. Father's day. Family visits. Each broke my heart because you weren't there. Then there were the baby girls born to very deserving parents, but I can't escape the feeling it isn't fair.

I've been hiding, I admit. I haven't been online. I haven't blogged or checked my email often. I've stayed off social networking - some completely, others just a little less often. I don't want to hear sad news, or happy news. I like things being pretty even emotionally right now. But I know I can't hide forever, that I need to come out at some point and figure out the world again. I've forced myself out to some social events, but I'm terrified, always terrified, of the something that never comes, or rarely does, that makes it impossible for me to stay.

I'm thinking of ways to step out again without falling into the traps I'd walked into before. I'm starting to get a firm grasp on my priorities and I don't want to muddle them up again. I'm starting to be a little bit stronger in defending my choices when it comes to my priorities. All good things, things that came from losing you. That silver lining doesn't always shine, though, does it?

It will be nice when this year of firsts is over. Nice and shattering all on it's own. Bittersweet doesn't even start to cover it. But that heartbreak is for a different day. I have plenty enough that come with today to start borrowing from tomorrow.

I hope to start writing more now. I was asked by someone not to stop. I never really intended to stop. The letters just got lost in the shuffle. Here's to a new start, then, one that carries on for quite a bit longer.

Not so long now, then, and I'll be writing you again. All my love, sweet girl.

Mommy.