Dear Sonzee Bear,
It has been 9 days since you should've? would've? could've? but didn't turn 7. It has taken me 9 days to be able to sit down and reflect on the fact that another, your 3rd to be precise, birthday has passed here on earth without you to celebrate. I will forever find February 11 one of those dates that just doesn't make sense. How could it? It is your day of birth, a day to honor you, a day to celebrate you coming into this world...but you aren't here anymore, so I don't really understand what to do. I don't really understand how to best approach it. While I know there are various schools of thought on how to celebrate or honor the day, nothing has quite felt right for us; maybe it will happen with time?
I found myself this year not even able to decorate your grave and not even able to visit it because I was with Tzvi in North Dakota. I was able to sift through my emotions and at least push the guilt of that aside. After all, the decorations are really just for me, and I don't need to go to North Scottsdale if I want to talk to you or see you. It is really hard to believe all that, but deep down I know it to be true. There is still this immense suffocating grief life guilt that is nearly impossible to navigate. I tell myself that you have siblings who are alive, who need me now, but that makes me angry that it's the truth. I remind myself that I won't parent you the same way I do your siblings nor the way I once did. That is just an ugly reality, I get it, both parts, the ugly and the reality. It still hurts. It still doesn't make me feel any better, It doesn't help the self-imposed motherly guilt that comes because you won't ever not be my child and I will forever feel like you are being slighted.
I will say for the third time, I am sorry we didn't do anything for you on your birthday. I hope all of your friends threw you one incredible party. I hope saba was able to come. I hope you ate ice cream, whipped cream, and as much cake as you wanted. I hope you danced around and celebrated in whatever way you wanted. I hope you are enjoying another year free, but I still will always wish I could be there with you. I wish I could sing happy birthday to you and watch you blow out candles or in the reality that we lived, watch your siblings blow them out for you while you pressed a switch of some sort or used your eye gaze to indicate whatever you wanted to let us know.
Maybe next year I will be able to tackle this grieving a bit better and be on top of your birthday and all of the other challenging dates that face me in January and February. Maybe. No promises though. I am sorry.
I wish for you an incredible year of you being 7. Wherever you are, with all of your friends, doing whatever you want. I am sure you are as beautiful as ever! I love you my forever in my mind little 4-year-old princess who is now 7.
Until next time.