Today it has been 116 weeks since you were here. Sometimes even though I write you a letter every week it still makes me pause an extra second to see the actual number of how many Mondays it has been. As I have said at least 100 times before, I can still remember the details of that Monday as if it were to have happened today. I tell myself it is a blessing because maybe one day I won't remember it so well and I won't have any pictures to jog my memory. There are so many details of your life that have already slipped from the forefront of my mind, I shudder knowing the same can and probably will happen at some point. But for now, 116 Mondays since you last shared my physical space, I am thankful I remember it all.
This last week we spent in Florida. I laughed being a tourist in a state I spent the majority of my life. I went to the Everglades for the first time and not just driving through. We took an airboat and also went on an animal encounter. I didn't mind the baby alligator, probably because he had his mouth taped shut, but the boa and huge scorpion I could have done without. The airboat was fun, I loved how much your siblings loved it! When we started out there was a black and red bird. I thought of how it could have been you but then kept the thought to myself. Sometimes I feel insane when I find myself making everything a sign. I would totally sound like a nutcase if I spoke the words aloud.
This week was another yizkor service on the last day of Pesach. I sent savta flowers for the last days in your honor, so they were a pretty red and pink bunch. I got your oldest sister a grieving book for teens (I know a bit early, but I am sure you've talked to her and I bet you would agree). She isn't wanting to read it. I am hoping she is just telling me that and she is reading it without me knowing. I HATE how your siblings keep everything to themselves and then randomly share a "fun fact" that would have been useful to know 2 years ago.
I spent a good portion of my week thinking about you in various ways. I will probably save the bulk of the thoughts for another day, but we saw so many people and no one asked about you or brought you up. It was one of those side notes I just stored. I think I was indifferent to it, but I definitely noticed. I wonder if they feel awkward about it or if they have already forgotten about you? It has only been 2 years...is that possible? Out of sight, out of mind? Maybe it is better than asking me something dumb, that would be uncomfortable. I mean I have fun doing that myself as it is, just throwing little comments here and there about you and death. (I can't lie, I would rather lighten the mood and it is fun to watch people not have any clue what to say, subconscious payback?!)
The other thoughts I had were as I was walking with your siblings, laughing and smiling. From the outside people would walk by and think how amazingly lucky this family is. 2 boys, and 2 girls, on a vacation for close to 2 weeks to Florida, must be nice. To be fair, we look "perfect". The life many would dream of. A beautiful family basking in the Florida sun. But we are far from perfect, and we aren't whole. We walk around with a fake facade, pretending this is life...well it is, but it isn't...because you should be there...in your wheelchair casting the reality of what our life should still be, but isn't, and won't ever be. It sucks. I wear all my Sonzee jewelry, but sometimes I want a bigger sign that says "bereaved mother, buried my 4-year-old daughter in 2020".
Anyway, yesterday we flew back to Phoenix. In true Tzvi and ema fashion we were on the plane, deboarded from the plane, put on another plane because the first one was "no good", and after 2 hours of a delay finally were on our way. Back to another week of reality, and a little less than a month left of work for this school year for me. Summer organizing/packing is getting underway and hopefully, the house will be ready in 6 weeks.
Anyway baby girl!
Have a great week! Love you! Miss you!
Until next time.