Hi, baby girl. I am sorry it has taken me 13 days to write to you and that I missed week 101. It happened to be that week 101 also fell on your Hebrew deathaversary date and I just didn't have the strength to send you a letter. We went to your grave and aba said kaddish for you with a minyan, and that was hard enough for me. I had plenty of support there and I felt all your breezes, but it was a tough day. The week leading up to it wasn't any better, and it has taken me another week to start to climb out of the dark hole. (Just enough time for the emotional roller coaster to continue with your sister's 12th birthday, which is also exactly 2 years from the day your body began to fail you, and then it will be her bat-mitzvah.) I am filled with mixed emotions as I mentally attempt to prepare for a set of family pictures without you, and a milestone event you won't physically be present at. To make matters worse I am trying to push the guilt away that I feel for when I prayed to Hashem for him to take you before your sister turned 12 so she wouldn't have to sit shiva for you. I never wanted you gone, but I knew it was inevitable and I didn't want your sister to have to be thrown into true adulthood so quickly. It still hurts me to my core I was faced with having to think about any of that.
These last two weeks have been filled with preparing for your sister's special day, praying illness doesn't plague any of us, family, or her friends, and trying to make it through every day without you. It hasn't gotten any easier. At the most recent grief group, I mentioned how challenging year two has been, and someone in year 3-4 said it's all about the same from here. The first year is filled with so much denial that some of the times pass without really processing the reality, but then year two slaps you in the face with the reality that this is forever, you won't ever be coming back. A fact that is obvious, and in my face daily, but just so factual it brings a consistent state of panic. This is forever. The hole in my heart is forever. The pain is forever. The reality of you being gone is forever. It is all forever.
I am so angry. I hate feeling angry, but it just is what it is. It is a tense feeling, and the worst part is that it isn't directed at anyone or anything specific, just life. Just the fact that you aren't here and we are missing out on having you here. It sucks! It makes me angry that I don't know where you are, or who you are with. It makes me angry you aren't here and we don't have a physical family of 7 anymore. It makes me angry that you were born with a genetic disorder that we had zero knowledge about and that it was completely undetectable until after you were born. We had no insider information, we were just left to be blissfully unaware until reality smacked us in the face...and since 2015 it hasn't quite stopped.
This last week your brother had a hockey tournament. His team played up a division, I can tell you were clearly enjoying your holiday weekend elsewhere, hate to remind you but you are supposed to come and help! Anyway, it didn't go very well, but as always he had fun, so there is that. His next tournament is on your birthday weekend if you have any desire to join us in the negative freezing temperatures of North Dakota, please do (there is sure to be a huge breeze).
Over the last two weeks, someone in our new neighborhood reported our work on the new house for being unpermitted. Little do they know how many projects your father and I have completed over the last 13.5 years, so it took less than the amount of time it took for the city to put the red tag on the house from the date of the complaint for us to hang up the building permit. We were pretty proud of ourselves for that accomplishment, and honestly, I am now really excited about this project. I cannot wait until it is fully finished. I wish we had a room for you and all of your stuff, but I know having all your stuff throughout the house is how it is meant to be, despite how painful it will be on some days to see the reality of you gone.
Anyway little bear, I hope you have a great week ahead. If you could add a protective layer of health to our house and all of our potential guests this week and weekend that would be greatly appreciated. I miss you beyond words and hope you are doing well and staying healthy. I miss you lots!
Until next time.