Monday, August 1, 2022

130 weeks

Dear Sonzee,

130 Mondays have passed. The weeks with 0's at the end seem to hit the hardest.  They for some reason represent an infinite amount of time.  130 weeks.  130 Mondays since you last laid in my lap.  130 Mondays since I last felt your soft skin and gave you a kiss.  

I often wonder who is taking over that role without me being there. I pray it is someone and you haven't been void of receiving cuddles and kisses from someone, but I am also envious of whoever is fortunate enough to be with you. 

130 Mondays since you were driven away from our home for the last time. I cannot seem to remember your siblings' correct names or why I walked into a room, but I can remember 130 Mondays ago like it happened yesterday. I will forever be thankful for as long as that is the case.  (Although I cannot say the same for the 48 hours before that).

This last week all the related service providers and teachers started back at FBC.  I was able to pop in virtually for a meeting on Friday and it was nice to see everyone.  I am very excited about the new school year (although I will be starting later than everyone else).  This week I purchased your siblings' school supplies so when we get back they will be ready to go to school.  

I often times find myself forgetting how old you would be and what grade you would be going into.  Hard to even fathom you as a 7-year-old 2nd grader.  Forever in my mind, you are 4 and in preschool.  The same age as your baby brother.  

This weekend I took Meena and Noam to the trampoline park here.  There was a Jewish special needs camp with a little girl who reminded me so much of you.  She was being held in the lap of someone while on the trampoline.  I stared.  I wanted to go over and ask about her, but I had shoes on, and I couldn't think of anything besides, "Hi, she reminds me of my dead daughter, what is her diagnosis?", so I just started some more.  While my mind created various scenarios of how the counselors were probably thinking how rude I was to stare, and how if they were to say something I would actually be able to bring you up, the tears filled my eyes.  So much so that Meena caught on and asked me if I was okay, I managed to give a smile and say yes, but my throat caught when I went to say how the little girl reminded me of you. It took a good swallow for me to say it to her.  I tried to get her to go over and ask the counselor about her, but she didn't want to and being how I wasn't going, it would have been pretty hypocritical to make her.

Anyway baby girl...I wish you were here (although the walk up the hill would be quite intense pushing you in your wheelchair). I wish you would come and visit me!  I wish I knew what you have been up to for the last 130 Mondays. I miss you so much!

Until next time.

Love always, 

The Mighty Contributor

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