It has been 9 days since my last letter to you. It seems like so much longer. I am so sorry. I hope you know that the lack of letters is by no means representative of the number of times you are thought about every minute. It would be impossible to write you so much, and, you would most certainly roll your eyes and be annoyed if I did.
The last two weeks have been filled with your siblings' hockey and gymnastics, a lot of work, your birthday, and my slow return to normalcy after the last 6 weeks. The latter is the main reason it has taken me a bit to write you a letter.
After both your Hebrew and English birthdays my body collapsed. It was as if all of the emotions of the last 6 weeks were finally able to be released. It has taken me about a week to mentally get back on track. I wish I could find a way to make this situation make sense. It is just after 6 weeks of being stuck in the grief trenches, the sky begins to lighten, the clouds begin to part, the sunlight begins to peak through, and eventually, the normalcy of what has become our new life returns.
The typical grief remains. It isn't as intense all at once, it goes back to just coming in waves and spurts. It goes back to catching me off guard and bringing mood swings at a more steady rate. It returns me to an average level of being able to "tolerate stupid" and manage to parent.
Meena has mastered some amazing tricks at gymnastics. On the floor she can do a running front flip, and a round-off quadruple back handspring. On the beam, she can do a cartwheel and some other fancy-named things. She is really working hard on getting her Kip on the bars. She is hoping she can get it before official team placements happen next month. I hope for her sake she gets it. She is amazing to watch and we are just so impressed with her talent. It is hard to believe she started not even 2 years ago.
This weekend Tzvi had his President's Day tournament. He and I spent the majority of it in Peoria. His team is not only on the younger side, but they are also on the tinier side. They did amazing not giving up, even when us parents wanted them to. They played an elite team whose program has sent about 15-20 kids to the NHL. Tzvi's coach said to remember their names; I think we all will. They were impressive to watch, but the boys were very much out of their league. We thought that maybe Tzvi would pay a bit more attention in school now that he has had a taste of what talent goes to the NHL, but instead, he said he will just work harder. Okay!?
Tonight was the first class of a pilot program for ASU and Hospice of the Valley called Resilient Parenting for Bereaved Families. I was asked to explain your death, my biggest challenge since, and something that has helped me to cope. I started with a deep breath and mentioned how I don't like to relive your death, I don't like to talk about your last weekend, but I did it, and I allowed myself to cry. I mentioned that the minute you left us was actually peaceful in and of itself. I said it is so hard to pick the biggest challenge, but I settled on it is how I am not naive to think your siblings can't die also. I said that the New Song grief group and friends have helped me to cope, but despite feeling like a failure for needing more help, I admitted that after the first 18 months on this grief journey, I realized it was okay to need the help of medication and for the last year and a half since I started to take it, it has made life manageable, it has allowed me to function, it's what helps me to cope without you here.
Anyway, my love. We are just a week away from it becoming a new month. The amount of time since you have been here just continues to grow and become difficult to comprehend. The weight in my chest is heavier to hold. The hole in my heart is bigger. The love for you is still exponential.
I hope you are having a great time wherever you are. Thank you for all of your recent visits. I don't doubt your presence.
Until next time baby girl!