76 weeks

Dear Sonzee, 

Today will be the completion of 76 weeks without you.  It is the 5th Monday in New York without you, almost seems surreal.  This last week your New York family painted you rocks for me to bring home to you.  We simultaneously packed Shabbas boxes for hospitals in the Tri-state area.  I wish during all those shabbas' we spent in the hospital together we had been given these boxes.  The only time we ever had anything like these boxes was when we were in CHOP together.  

This week was a bit more challenging for me for a couple of reasons.  The first was that I have been really missing you and so many people here park illegally in the handicapped parking spaces and it just strikes a chord.  I have been unable to say anything to anyone since you have died, but it doesn't change the anger that builds up inside of me.  This week I managed to open the parking mobility app, and stared someone down so hard through their window they never exited their vehicle but she did look like she was searching for her placard and couldn't find it.  I won't allow myself to talk to anyone because I have created a dialogue in my mind that would inevitably boil down to the person asking me if I need the spot and me bringing up the fact that my reason for the spot is no longer alive, them not caring, and me falling apart in front of people who don't matter.  So, while I want to slit their tires and wish them the need to actually require the use of the spot, I just continue to keep it inside.  

In addition to the parking issue, I have felt so somber because while the world continues to care solely about Covid, everyone seems to continue to forget about RSV, the flu, and other colds that can also kill various populations.  If it isn't corona, no one cares, and it makes me horribly angry and sad!  The last summer you spent here we spent 2 weeks driving around to various hospitals to find out you had adenovirus, you know, the other fancy name for "allergies" that no one cares about.  That's what started your downfall.  Or rather, it let me know your body was beginning to fail.  It really breaks my heart that people just. don't. care.  The world feels everyone should protect the most vulnerable, but only on their terms, and only when it is them who is vulnerable.  Remember how many things we missed out on because I had to make sure you were protected as much as possible?  The world never went out of its way for the small percentage of you and all the rest of the rare.  (PS: they still don't, unless of course, it is covid-19 and then they expect everyone to protect them (insert ema's eye roll)).

This was the last full week without Laeya and Tzvi.  Aba and I are SO excited to pick them up Tuesday.  It doesn't help my heart that I get to pick them up, but haven't been able to bring you back to me.  Hard to believe their month of summer is already over.  Hard to believe summer, in general, is almost over.  I am still torn on wanting time to slow down because that means it will be longer until we meet again, but also not wanting it to keep flying by because that means it is further from the last time I last held you, looked you in your eyes, and got to tell you I loved you while I gave you a kiss.  

This week I walked into a store and was looking at charms when I was caught off guard by the one that had 3 hearts with "big sister", "middle sister", and "little sister".  Sometimes I wish I had a brown bag with me to breathe into when I get punched in the gut.  Instead, I snapped a picture and sent it to Mrs. Zupnick along with the gif of someone being punched in the stomach by a wrestler.  Maybe one day I will buy it and either keep your heart on my necklace or bring it to your grave for you?  I also saw a mother/daughter necklace and it had only 2 daughter parts and that made me feel sick because I would need three, but could theoretically get that one.  Needless to say, I left them all on their shelves.

Anyway my love.  I guess that is all for this week. I love you and miss you lots!  Continue to be safe and happy and free!  

Until next time.

Love always, 

Ema