Coming to a head

Dear Sonzee, 

Hi baby girl! How are you? I am sitting on the porch facing the lake in VV, for another summer without you. I was (as usual) holding everything together. Keeping myself (physically and emotionally) occupied to prevent the whispers of grief that I have kept at bay in that locked space. While I know 2 things can exist, I can enjoy my summer and I can miss you; I can continue to live life without you, and I can also miss you so terribly I want to be with you. The 2 existing things are coming to a head. 

Last weekend (as you probably know because Gan Eden surely got more crowded) a flash flood went through a river in Texas, where a lot of summer camps were located. The impact was deadly with an entire bunk of 8/9 year old girls and their counselors swept away; some of their bodies still have yet to be located. While the news of the reality of that situation was spreading across the US, your sisters were participating in a camp marathon where they chose to run in honor of you. Again 2 truths existing together colliding in my heart and head. 

Any loss of a child sits heavy beyond belief in my core. I know what these parents are feeling, the panic, absence, anger, confusion, intense pain, all with the added challenge that those who have never experience their child's death are saying how they are heartbroken (and while that may be true, they have no idea). They get to wake up to their children. They have them still, here. They are heartbroken at the potential of their loss, but they are unable to truly grasp the new reality of these newly bereaved parents. The ones I will soon see popping up in the online bereaved mom/parent support groups. The ones who now know the pain of everything they have always been subconsciously afraid of experiencing. 

The black hole of grief has opened up and swallowed me. I dislike this hole, despite the fact that my therapist would tell me (and after 5 years I know) that 2 things can exist, I can sit in the hole, I can give the grief time to sit with me, AND I can climb out of the hole. (For the record, I prefer to stay out of the hole and not even entertain it, because as your brother Tzvi would say, "why would I want to think about it when it's too painful") After 5 years I have almost mastered the ability of skipping over the holes, or so I have thought. Because always, when I think I have, and it has been a decent amount of time since the last "oops I feel into the hole I was avoiding moment", I inevitably find myself back at the bottom of the Alice in Wonderland hole. I guess maybe I believe my therapist a bit more about 2 things being able to exist. I can sit here in this horrible pitch-black hole filled with your absence and excruciating pain, AND I know that I will be able to survive the depths of what I have fallen into. 

I just wish these 2 things didn't have to co-exist.

 

2 boys and 2 girls

We never learned the gender for our children prior to their birth. With Sonzee being the 4th Sam had actually wanted to know, but because for the previous 3 he didn't want us to find out, I decided we should stick with our pattern. We already had a girl, then a boy, and then a girl, in my mind of course baby #4 would be a boy. How could it not be? Me an (at the time) very much type A person, there would be no doubt, no question, we would have 2 boys and 2 girls. The perfect family. Afterall, we were evening out the odd number of children, so there wasn't a way we could have an odd number of girls to an odd number of a boy. 3 weeks prior to baby #4's arrival I had a panic attack. We have a boy's room and a girl's room, BUT, what. if. baby. #4. is. a. girl? How would that work? You can't have 3 girls in one room. It didn't make sense. And then....Sonzee was born. A "healthy baby girl" as Sam would write on our social media announcement. I cringed. I asked him why on earth he'd write that. Was he challenging Hashem?? 4 (very long) weeks later, we would learn she had epilepsy, so I guess he was. Within 2 months my perfect image of what our perfect family was going to be, was no longer (but hey, she did have blue eyes so there was always that). 

This year for Passover we traveled to Florida. We took a day trip to Key Largo today to go on Jet skis. Our initial plan was 3 jetskis, Sam with our oldest boy, the 2 girls together, and me with our youngest. Then (as most of my planning goes these day) Hashem said, nah, let's do 2 jetskis, all 6 people can fit on 3, so we will do one for the boys and one for the girls. And so we did. Almost 2 hours into our ride and on the return after so much laughter, speed, and smiles we were idling under a bridge and a nearby boat (aptly named: "This is the Way") and a person on the boat waved to me and as I waved back my inner dialogue took over. 

"Oh wow, 2 jetskis, one that has the boys with the father and one with the girls with the mother, that's even, that's perfect, what a perfect family, 2 and 2"

"But no, there is another, she just isn't on the jetski's, because she is dead, and even if she were alive, she wouldn't be on the jetskis, in fact, would we even be on this trip? What would we have done? What would we have done for the last 5 years? Not all of these #lifeexperiences" 

The heavy hit of grief smacking me in the face, almost cringeworthy to say it was similar to the wind and saltwater doing that simultaneously. Ironic I was on a jetski in an ocean with waves when the grief hit. Another memory a video about grief related to waves. Eventually the grief settles, similar to the waves, but you really don't know when, or how high the waves will be. You know after 5+ years there will be more waves, but you also know they aren't as insurmountable as they once felt, there is a break between them where you can actually breathe, and you can actually see the beauty that is all around you. You know, or rather I'd say you can acknowledge that even though you are no longer whole, you are no longer that unit of perfection that wasn't but was, you still have the perfect family; 2 living boys and 2 living girls, and from the view of others, and in reality, it is actually perfect, but it's always going to be missing the 3rd jetski. 

2024

My hands hover over the keyboard, my mind empty of thoughts. I'm stuck, at a loss for words. This feels fitting because, since I started this blog in 2015, 2024 is the first year I've written only seven entries. The more I try to focus on finding words, the more tears fill my eyes, and that familiar discomfort in my chest grows.

Maybe it’s because there are no new words to share, no brilliance to offer, and nothing more I can say to myself that hasn’t already been said a million times since she died.

2024 marks another year that Sonzee never started and will never finish. There were no new milestones to celebrate, no fresh photos to share, no new moments to commemorate. We did, however, honor her with street cleanups and the completion of a new playground in her name.

2024 also brought more painted rocks for Sonzee, some of which have faded after four years, the paint and messages worn away. The cemetery continues to grow, with more people and more rocks scattered around. I wonder, when new visitors walk among the graves, if they know the rocks originated because of our little Sonzee Bear.

This year, Sonzee received more keychains and gifts from our family travels—perhaps the most since she left us. Keeping the top of her gravestone orderly has become more difficult, but I do it anyway.

2024 hasn’t made it any easier to answer questions about how many children I have. With confidence, I say “five,” but it’s the details that bring hesitation and inner conflict.

This past year, I’ve allowed myself to sit with my grief more often, though I still tend to suppress it, to my own detriment. I’ve felt more sadness, more emptiness, and more silence in my mind because of Sonzee’s absence. But I’m still uncertain what to do with all of it.

In 2024, I accepted that there’s no "fixing" grief. I came to terms with this in the same way I had to accept that a cure would never make Sonzee an active participant in her own life. I accept grief for what it is: permanent, ever-changing, and woven into the fabric of my existence. I accept that it will influence everything I do, every day. I accept that others, even family members, may never fully grasp the depth of grief’s impact. And I accept that there will always be a void—one that nothing can fill. It’s larger than everything else, and though it sometimes shrinks, it is never gone. It can swell at any moment, without warning, and consume everything. I accept grief, but I don’t like it.

2024 was the last year Sonzee should have been in single digits. It marked the beginning of “10 Weeks Until 10,” and I started leaving painted stepping stones at her grave. I hope, wherever she is, she’s able to step on them.

2024 is also the last year she lived longer than she will be gone. A concept my mind struggles to accept.

2024 was simply 4 years 10 months and 29 days without our little bear.

Moving forward

There are days that you experience during your life that you remember so vividly it is as if you could relive them in your mind. They are typically the best days of your life or sadly the worst, but there are those days that are not quite so simple to categorize. The ones that tug at your heart because they represent both a beginning and an end of a period, or an experience. Those moments, similar to the best and the worst also find a way to settle into your mind and sit forever in a crevice. The emotions that come with them are a blend of happy and sad, panic and calmness, a burst of tears and a deep breath, complete opposites like the crashing of a wave and then the receding water back into the ocean, an earthquake that comes lasting for less than a minute and then ends, or a breeze in the wind that slowly fades away.

I've learned over the 4 years 2 months and 4 days that grief is a constant battle of finding the balance of my inner ocean. For the most part, I do my best to keep the crashing waves subtle, but there are days on this journey when the crash is impossible to ignore. There are days when the balance feels insurmountable. Those questionable days become just as significant as the celebrations of her life and the honoring throughout and since her death. These days in a sense aren't negative, but it is difficult to call them positive. They are what others would call moving forward, and yes, in a sense that would be correct. But something that I have also learned on this journey is that when they tell you you won't move on, that you will move forward, that doesn't mean it will be easy and it doesn't mean it won't hurt like you just buried your child all over again. 

I remember the first day I had a conversation within my mind over not going to visit the cemetery for the first time after Sonzee died. I watched the clock tick by knowing as time passed so would my opportunity to sit by her grave. I knew when the clock read the time I needed to leave by to beat the gates closing that if I didn't get up and go I would miss my chance. I sat there and reminded myself that I wasn't going for her, I was going for me, and I was truly "ok" not going and the sadness was the fact that I was ready to not go. I remember the pain that swirled in my chest and the overwhelming sadness that swallowed me whole, the intense guilt that it brought along with it. I did it though, I watched the clock strike 4pm, and I was okay, life was moving forward. 

I remember the first sibling/cousin picture that happened that I "forgot" to put a "stand-in" for Sonzee. I remember reminding myself right after it happened that it meant it was okay, it was part of the process, I was moving forward. I felt panic, sadness, and tears, again with the guilt, and the realization that it was okay, life was moving forward. 

I remember the first time I stopped writing Sonzee weekly letters. Like visiting the cemetery, they too were more for me than her. I found a new way to communicate with her, I didn't need to send her a letter on a blog. The guilt settled in strongly paired with so many other emotions. But, like the other events, I was okay, life was moving forward.

In May of 2020 in the throws of COVID, 3 months after we buried our Sonzee Bear we ventured to Flagstaff, and like much of the things we have done in our marriage, we threw a random dart and did something crazy, we purchased a house in Kachina Village. That home became our Bear Pines, our home away from home, our family retreat, a place Sonzee's baby brother labeled "other home". That home was more than just a house, it was the place that held my sanity together and brought us so many insane memories. It was a place that filled a void and gave so many others a sense of peace to venture to. But, like so many experiences since our Sonzee left us, it has served its purpose. Our family as a whole is ready to move forward. There is hockey and gymnastics and adventures that remove our ability to go up north for the weekend. I know that life continues moving forward, I know that selling Bear Pines is the right thing to do, it is time, and we will be okay because life is moving forward. 

The pit in my stomach and the tears streaming down my face are not because I am sad that we are selling, it is because I know I am ready and it breaks my heart. It's how I felt when we sold 19th street, allowed the insurance company to throw away her wet furniture after the flood, and painted over her medication door. Moving forward is so hard. It is filled with tremendous guilt, questions over how she will be honored now, and fear that eventually, I will leave her completely behind. The tears, the sadness, the red eyes, and the horrid ugly crying is because moving forward is so freaking scary, and I miss her so damn much. But deep down I know, like every time before, it will be okay...because life will continue to move forward. 

184 weeks

Dear Sonzee, 

This week was our last week in NY. It started with Meena and Noam being in camp, with Tzvi hanging out at home, and ended with Laeya and aba coming back from their 2-week trip to Israel and France. I have been working a lot supervising via TEAMS and working on ieps that are upcoming. The weirdest thing is how NY won't start school until a month after Phoenix has. It's really surreal to watch kids go to day camp, while you are working on a computer while kids are attending school.

The days were feeling crazy while I worked and aba was away with Laeya. I joke, but it must be nice to be able to just travel for 2 weeks while the other parent is holding down the fort and working. Your siblings and I did have a good time, but Tzvi has pretty much lost his privileges of being able to stay home after camp. He will be in sleep-away camp or day camp, but not lounge around "camp".

Work has been keeping me busy and it feels challenging to keep up with everything, but it is working out. I am so thankful that I am allowed to work in this manner, so I will do what I can to make it work, but it isn't easy.  Sometimes I wish I was physically in the building to work on an AAC device or to see the kiddos in person, and not via a computer.

I went for the first time in years to the Emunah fundraising event that Ms. Malka always co-chairs. I ended up buying way to much as usual, and this is why I should not attend in the future. 

Anyway baby girl.

I love and miss you!

Until next time.

Love always, 

Ema

182 weeks and 1 day

Dear Sonzee, 

Another week has passed, and in 2 days it will have been 3.5 years.  I traveled to Phoenix this past week for back-to-school training at FBC. I really enjoyed being back in the building. Amber and I saw your heart canvas on the floor and we both nearly lost our marbles. Joy (she is basically the new Jaime) assured us it is going to be a new focal point on a wall with student artwork, or at least off the floor. It was accidentally knocked off the wall and then a janitor threw it out causing Joy to dumpster dive until she found it. (Luckily, because Amber and I would have been broken). This year I am really excited about what is in store and cannot wait to get back to school. 

When I wasn't at work or being fed by Morah Alyssa and bubbie, I was doing projects around the house that aba doesn't know about and I am excited to see how long it takes for him to notice. I flew back to NY on Thursday night via the red-eye. Aba and Laeya left for Israel before I got back and they are going to France before they come home, she is one lucky girl that sister of yours. 

Meena had a rough start back to VV day camp after coming back from sleep away. Tzvi is enjoying lounging around. We ended up switching their phones from Troomi to Bark and everyone seems to be a bit happier. 

On Sunday we did Tzvi's annual birthday trip to the American Dream Mall and the water park. Uncle and I splurged on the skybox and it was a great day of water park fun and food. We left with your baby cousin Isla in toe, and she is camping out with us until the end of this week.

Anyway baby girl. I miss you!

Until next time.

Love always, 

Ema

181 weeks

Hey Sonzee bear!

The Zupnick's are going back to Phoenix tomorrow. They have been so fun to share the house with. We have spent a lot of time eating, as Morah Zupnick makes sure to prepare food all the time. She is a fantastic cook and is doing no favors to my already expanding waistline. 

This last week we have done some more clothing shopping and I have been working virtually. 

The weather has been on and off raining and hot due to humidity. I wonder how it is for you? 

It seems that your siblings are having fun at their camps and Noam is having fun at home. He has been sharing his space with Nosson and it has been really funny watching them interact. They are acting like brothers now and it is pretty comical, including the fighting, which can get physical (and hysterical) to watch. 

VV continues to not be the same without you, but I am getting along the best I can. Things are just different.

Anyway, babygirl. Stay safe!  I love you!

Until next time.

Love always, 

Ema

180 weeks and 1 day

Dear Sonzee, 

Today is 180 weeks and 1 day since I last saw you. I calculated the numbers and it equals 3 years, 5 months, and 15 days, or 41 months and 15 days, or 1261 actual days. Time continues to pass, and life continues to go on. I feel so much further from you, yet I know spiritually you are close by. It isn't the same, but it cushions the blow a bit. It is like putting on some sort of safety equipment and then getting hit. Some protection is offered, but a hit still hurts, and the body still bruises. That is about where I am at this point in the journey.

There are still words I cannot find this far into the journey. There is still difficulty expressing the thoughts and feelings of your loss. This last week there have been days when your physical presence felt like another lifetime. So much continues to happen since you left.  All your siblings finished their 3rd week of camp and the Zupnick's headed home after being here for the last two weeks. It was such a fun time having them here, well for the adults, Noam and Nosson acted like brothers (which was really funny).

This last week we went to the waterpark at American Dream. I saw someone pushing a water wheelchair. I never noticed they had that the last few times we went. I wonder if by now you would have learned how to sit and could have sat in it without support or a seat belt. I wonder if you would have liked to be in the wave pool? I know the slides wouldn't have been your preference at all, but the hot tubs I know you would have loved.

We did some shopping this last week and ate a lot of yummy food. Your older brother is actually loving sleepaway camp this year. Your older sisters are smiling and seem happy at theirs. Meena hurt her wrist, but thankfully it isn't broken. The only other contact from your sisters is to send more money or specific items. Your brother got a pie in the face on his Hebrew birthday and is enjoying the sports and friends. He is trying to get us to get him an iPhone, but I think Aba and I are figuring out alternatives to that idea. Noam has been watching Monster's Inc on repeat as usual again this summer. He got new shoes this week from Bubby, along with a toy since she felt he wasn't being spoiled enough like your other siblings.

I worked last week remotely, I am so thankful I have the ability to do that so we can still enjoy summer here in NY. I wish you were here, but then I am reminded of your awful last summer here and the thought makes me exhausted. There has been a lot going on in my mind, but I will save it for another post. 

Hope you have a great week ahead little bear! Love you lots!

Until next time.

Love always,

Ema

179 weeks

Dear Sonzee, 

This last week the Zupnick's came to VV and are staying with us. Temima was dropped off at Camp Simcha and Nosson has been going to camp with Noam. Baby Meir and Baby Isla got to hang out on the 4th of July and it has been so fun having everyone in the house. We had a great time with uncle, Hay-Hay, and Isla visiting over the 4th. 

We have gone to Rita's twice now, and Noam is loving his cotton candy custard with fruity pebbles. There are some awesome new stores in Monticello this year for clothing. The girls and I have been getting our shopping in. It isn't the same without you here to store all the bags under, or have you as our shopping companion that is for sure.

Everyone seems to be adjusting to camp well. No bad news from Tzvi and the reports have been positive. Your sisters have written some letters, Meena wasn't thrilled over her bunk, but she is adjusting and appears to be having a great time based on the pictures she has been tagged in.

I had off of work this week because of the 4th of July, and that was nice. Aba finally put together the rockets that Tzvi won during a raffle years ago. We went to the baseball field and launched them and it was really awesome. We were all surprised at how far they went into the sky. It was a rainy day yesterday, so we also went swimming indoors.

The fire works during the 4th of July were insane as they were launched literally in our backyard by the lake. I was a scaredy cat and watched from indoors because they were so loud watching from the deck.  This week has been filled with friends and fun. Wish you could be here!

Until next time. 

Love you and miss you!

-Ema

177 weeks

Dear Sonzee, 

This week finished our first full week in New York, and Laeya, Noam, and my 2nd week away. Aba, Tzviki, and Meena came in yesterday, but not after a diverted flight that ended up making their travel over 9 hours. We finally got back up to VV around midnight and went to sleep around 2:30 after everyone was finally settled. 

This week I worked about 20 hours and Laeya and Noam hung around the house and played on their electronics or scootered. Most people were not yet up at VV because school didn't end until Thursday. Morah Lakie and her family arrived on Wednesday night, so I help situate them, we ate dinner together, and then they took a bit to get acclimated. 

Friday night we had Seri's family and the Blech's over for shabbas dinner, and then shabbas day we went to the Blech's house and hung out. We did lots of walking and relaxing. 

Anyway my love. 

Until next time. 

Love always, 

Ema

Summer 2023

Dear Sonzee,

We finished our drive to Uncle's on Friday and spent shabbas in New Jersey. Yesterday we officially arrived home for summer. The one you never got to see, but the one that would have worked so much better for our family when you were here. (Minus the staircase up, but nothing is perfect). Today starts day 1 of summer. 

Summer is one of those sneak up on me quietly in a dark alley at midnight sort of experiences. (Or what I imagine that would feel like because I'd rather never be in that situation) The drive was filled with hours alone with my thoughts paired with songs that would take me back to either your life or death. Driving on the backroads of Oklahoma listening to Taylor Swift sing "Wildest dreams" took me back to your infancy and the blog post I wrote in September of 2015 as a guest blogger. I still have those dreams of what life could've been had it not been filled with what it was for you.

More songs continued to stream while your brother and sister were otherwise occupied by naps or playing with electronics. "From where you are" came on during day 2 of our drive and reminded me of its music video with cars driving down a long road. My mind drifted and this sadness cloud began to hover over me. Just a bit before I was so excited for summer, and to be back at VV, and then all of a sudden the cloud opened on me. 

Summers were for you and I. It was our time together, no nurse, your older siblings were in camp and Noam was just a baby. You were our shopping bag holder when Malka and I went to Woodbury Commons. You drove your car along Townhouse Road. You were a staple on our walks. VV isn't the same since you have been gone. The main blessing was relocating to the lake. The first summer without you in TH 49 was difficult. The lake is a place you haven't ever been. I don't see you on the floor or around the space. There are no blankets you ever laid on, I can't place you in any of the rooms. You exist only in my thoughts, which is both a blessing and a curse. This summer I will be working during the days virtually, which will help fill the void of your absence, but it makes what was once my break from reality, a stark reminder of what my current reality is. 

I am looking forward to this summer with excitement and a heavyweight within my chest of all the adventures you and I will miss out on together. I know you are still very much remembered by everyone here and your spirit definitely fills the air, but it doesn't change the fact that we are embarking on yet another summer without having to worry about your tubes being pulled out, allergies that show up on PCR tests, and needing to ensure we have your medical one form for when we inevitably had to the hospital runs. 

I know you will come to visit us with cool summer breezes, and I will be waiting on the porch with a cup of coffee in hand to enjoy them. Be safe and have a fun summer, my love. 

Until next time.

Love always, 

Ema

Recap of weeks 174 and 175

Dear Sonzee, 

We just completed day 2 of our drive to New York. We went a similar route to the one we did with you back in 2017. We passed by one of the fun spots where we spray painted the cars that were sticking out of the ground and Noam asked if he had been there. I told him no, but you had. Then I thought to myself it might be unfair that I won't ever take him, but also it falls under my rules of never repeating things unless we really have to. So today led us to a playground right before we entered into Oklahoma, and the brittle leaning water tower. We did have 2 Starbuck's stops and 2 gas stops as well. 

Aba is at home with Meena and Tziki. Meena is going to gymnastics 4 days a week until she flies to NY for camp. She got her roundoff-back handspring-back tuck, and it is beautiful. I am in aw of her strength and abilities. She is just so talented. I still can't believe she started 2 years ago. Tzvi and aba got back from Florida last Wednesday, the day after Laeya and I got home from New York. They went to watch a Stanley cup final game for the Panthers. It was an incredible game, and the only one they won during the last series. Vegas went on to win the cup, but Tzvi will have that forever experience. 

Last week was spent mainly finishing up the packing for camp and our roadtrip. Your siblings finished school for summer officially on Friday. I have been virtually working here and there to answer emails as we rev up for ESY to start next week. I am looking forward to summer relaxing paired with working, but I do feel like it is going to make summer feel like it is flying by. 

Anyway my love. I wanted to just send a quick update on things. I have another letter writing itself in my mind that might have to wait until tomorrow to get on paper. 

Be safe, have fun, and I miss you!

Unitl next time. 

Love always, 

Ema

June 1 1:52am (173 weeks and 2.5 days 44 min)

Dear Sonzee, 

I haven't written you a weekly letter for the last 3 weeks. The intention was initially there, and then after Shaina died everything went out the window. It's been a while since I have gone back to this place. The dark whirlwind of grief hole. The one that makes it impossible for me to fall asleep at night. The one that keeps the tears only a blink away. The one where it feels like I left something behind, and that leaves an enormous weight on my chest. It is the place where I want to be a hermit and not be around many people and keep to myself. It makes me exhausted in the way of not wanting to do anything more than the basics of life. I have worked so hard to get passed this place and to where I was 3 weeks ago...but it took less than a second (literally) to erase it all. 

Work finished up for me last week right before Shavuot. It was a nice holiday, I went and said Yizkor for you. On the first day, there was some drama at the shul because of a suspicious box. It ended after the bomb squad had to give the green light for things to continue. We had a mini block party at the house. I was thankful I had made 4 pitchers of cold brew prior to the start of the holiday!

We celebrated Meena's birthday during the last 3 weeks as you know, she turned 10, 2 times an age you never got to be. Tzvi had hockey tryouts and made peewee silver with most of his friends from last season. It is sad one of Tzvi's friends is no longer on the team, I am upset that his mom won't be on the bleachers with me.  I know I will see her around, but it isn't the same.  

We did an impromptu street cleanup Monday. We had to get our 2nd one in asap since we were due already. I asked Aba Sunday if we should go (it was 7am), and he said he wanted to wait until Monday because he wasn't in the right mindset because it was hot because we would go earlier Monday. The only thing accomplished was the mindset because we went at 9am and it was hot. Ms. Tara came with us and was a great help. Ms. Tara, Noam, Meena, and I finished from 7th-16th street in an hour and 20 minutes, and Aba, Tzvi, and Laeya did 16th-7th in the same time. It worked out nicely, and we got a lot of garbage. I do not understand why it is so hard to throw away cigarettes, but then I guess we wouldn't have any garbage to pick up. 

On Tuesday I flew to New Jersey. I have gotten to hang out with Uncle, Hay-Hay, and baby Isla (who as of this moment is officially a one-year-old). She never got to meet you and it still breaks my heart. I went to Meena's friend Sophia's brother's wedding tonight in New York. It was a beautiful affair, and I loved spending time with some of my VV friends. There was a girl in a wheelchair there and I wonder what her diagnosis is. I couldn't stop smiling watching her be pushed around in her wheelchair and dance with everyone. My heart broke when I saw her dancing with Sophia's brother, and while she isn't his sibling, it dawned on me that you won't be at any of your siblings' weddings. Aba said that you would be there in spirit dancing more freely than you could have ever been. It was an attempt to be positive about the reality. I kept in tears, but they were filling up my eyes, and they are coming out now. You missed Laeya's bat mitzvah, and you will miss the others, but I had not even considered weddings yet, and watching this girl dance with everyone pierced my soul. I hate when things like this sneak up on me. 

I hate that I have worked so hard to be where I was and it now seems like I have to start back over again. Why is grief so stinking hard?!  Why is it 1027392 tiny Sonzee-steps forward but an immediate catapult back? Maybe it is better that it all happens at once so when I eventually crawl back out of this Alice in Wonderland hole I won't (hopefully) fall right back down again. Maybe we can get a lot of the hard stuff out of the way now so I can have another 3+ years to build back up to before I fall back down? 

Sometimes your death mirrors your life spectacularly. I remember during your life someone once asked me why I was afraid to have hope or think positively about your future...and I remember the answer being because I was hoping it would make the fall less intense/less harsh/less far. In hindsight, I am unsure if it made anything any easier to cope with, but I won't know because I never had fictional dreams of a life I knew in my soul you wouldn't ever live. Sometimes I feel like it is the same with your death. Except I have allowed myself to get hopeful and to get comfortable in where I am at, so the fall down is extremely harsh. It feels like I am right back at the beginning and it sucks! 

Anyway baby girl. I am going to go attempt to get some sleep. I miss you lots! 

Until next time. 

Love always. 

Ema

167 weeks, 168 weeks, and 169 weeks

Dear Sonzee, 

Every Sunday/Monday for the last 3 weeks I have wanted to write you a letter. Every time the day passes by I tell myself on Tuesday-Thursday to find the time. By Friday I tell myself that I will just write to you the following week....then like the one before, that too seems to come and go. So, today, on the first day of the 4th Month of May you will not be part of, I am forcing myself to write.  It also happens to be that it is my first Monday in 11 weeks that I haven't been in a class on Monday night, and that Noam's soccer practice was canceled due to the insane wind that was present today. Maybe that was you yelling at me to remember you. I promise I haven't forgotten about you.

These last 3 weeks have been filled with your siblings in after-school activities and me working every day of the week. I switched to working officially Full time, so I now work Friday as well, I am able to do my work for the day at home if I want, so that is extremely helpful. We have received 2 more "Sonzee blankets", so now Tzvi is the only one remaining to have one made. It brings me happiness with a tinge of sadness when I see your siblings snuggled with their Sonzee bears and blankets. I am so happy that they use them and love them, I am sad that they are the placeholders for what should be a sleepover with you. 

The last 3 weeks I have found myself telling people that I have 5 children and even mentioning that you are no longer alive. A few times I might have left that little fact out of the story and enjoyed the persons' flabbergasted responses wondering how I do it all. If I really think about it and give the grief component the credit it deserves, it is far more challenging to parent 4 alive children and grieve the 5th. I am not ready to really accept that reality though, it would mean I would have to admit how much of the grieving part I choose to push to the side. It is far easier to do that. 

Noam started his first soccer practice last week for a team. He was all excited to get cleats and shin guards. He picked out blue socks and blue laces for his shoes. Aba seems to be embracing the potential of a son of his not playing travel hockey. Maybe embracing is a bit of a stretch, rather I should say he is in the stage of acceptance. I haven't purchased any "soccer mom" paraphernalia just yet, so he is safe for a bit. 

Tzvi has 16 more days until tryouts for next season, his last as a peewee, his last not checking. I am unsure how my brain and heart are going to handle that future, but for now, I will just focus on his last season of being young. He has been attending some skills sessions and we even forced him to take a full week off. He survived. 

Meena has been getting into the grove of being in level 3. She was a bit disappointed because she really wanted to be in level 4 for her first competition season. The truth is, she has all of the skills, but all of the elders felt it was in her best interest to start out with the potential to medal as much as possible to build her self-confidence to start. After her official placement, she went through a mental block and needed a bit of a mental reset, she seems to be rebounding nicely. I am really excited to watch her next year, she is so beautiful to watch!

Laeya has been giving us a fun entry into parenting a teenager. She is keeping us on our toes and we are trying to balance out being fun, and strict while allowing her some new independence in some areas. It is of course confusing to know if we are doing anything right. We probably aren't, but what would she talk to a therapist about as an adult if we did. 

What have you been up to? Did you come to visit Laeya and me in Florida this past weekend? I noticed it was extra windy. We bought you a red/yellow seashell that says Clearwater. Aba attended a funeral today and I meant to ask him to bring it to you, but forgot. A student of mine from FBC went to heaven Friday. Were you there to greet him? Have you and all of your FBC friends welcomed him with open arms? I asked myself today if you all attend classes together wherever you may be. Sadly, we know there are more than enough of you now for that. Do you see Coach Ed at all? Do you still love to swim? What new things have you tried or been up to? 

2 days from now we will complete another month without you here. The days, weeks, and months keep speeding by. I wish I could see you in my dreams, any idea when I might be ready? I could use a glimpse into your world.

I love you and miss you, baby girl!

I will do better with my letters. 

Until next time.

Love always, 

Ema 

166 weeks

Dear Sonzee, 

Hi babygirl, how are you doing?  Last week ended with a big knot in my stomach that actually started to untie itself after we decided we were going to visit you yesterday. We sat for a bit by you, Meena wondered how I could sit on the black granite because it was so hot, but I am used to it from the past few years, and I know it can get much much hotter. Noam, Meena, and I painted you Passover rocks. For some reason, Laeya nor Tzvi were wanting to get out of the car, but I am sure they spoke to you from where they were. 

Last week started Passover, our 4th without you here. It sometimes still confuses me that it has been so long already since you have been gone, yet how at times it really does feel like it just happened. I wonder if that will ever change? I wonder if I would ever want it to? 

We had such a wonderful set of first days despite it being a 3-day yom tov. I honestly have never enjoyed one so much. We ate out during the day meals and Shabbas night but ate the Sedarim at home with both nights full to the brim with people. The kids swam with friends and there is a family from VV here renting the house around the corner and we have been having a blast getting to know them better. One of their daughter's is a cat whisperer and all 3 love her and all the love they get when she is around. Your siblings have been enjoying their spring break with them here. I have been reading a book series and because of the resilient parenting class I am part have, have been making an emphasis on taking care of myself and it has been great for everyone. I am so happy to be part of the program. 

We went indoor skydiving yesterday. I am torn on if you would have loved the wind in your face or would have hated it. I sometimes wish I knew about it prior to your death to have given it a shot, because I really don't know if you would have liked it or not. 

I am looking forward to the last days starting tomorrow night, especially since I am feeling so much better since having visited you. I have to make sure I have a yummy-smelling candle for you to light and to prepare myself for Yizkor. 

I have to run. I miss you.

Until next time.

Love always,

Ema

3 years 2 months and 2 days (165 weeks and 2 days)

Dear Sonzee, 

Today is 3 years 2 months and 2 days or 165 weeks and 2 days since you were last in my arms. This last week Tzvi had off of hockey until Sunday. Sunday was the first day in a week he stepped back onto the ice. He was so excited to be playing a pick-up game in the morning. He made some beautiful shots and played against and with some really skilled players. 

Meena gained her confidence back at gymnastics and has her beautiful round-off back handspring back! Monday started her first official Level 3 training day. Many of her friends went into Level 4, but it was decided by her coach and support by me, that it would be best for her to do Level 3 for her first year of competition. Watching her learn the routines I am confident this was the best decision for her. She is going to rock it! I see, and am hopeful it will be the case, that there will be a lot of shiny medals in her future. 

Noam finished off his 6 weeks of soccer and played a game on his last day of practice Sunday. Aba didn't get any video, but he scored 4 goals and apparently the score was 4-0. Aba is beginning to wrap his head around him playing soccer and not hockey. I am sure he will still attempt to get him into an ice hockey house league. 

Laeya finished up her babysitting course and started her CPR course. She is excited about future babysitting jobs. She has also been entering into true teenage land because she has been sleeping all the time. She grew 1/4 of an inch. She also got her cast removed. 

Today was farm day at FBC. It was nice to be back at Baldridge Farm, and only a bit challenging to be there. Noam, Laeya, and Meena picked so many flowers for the table tonight, which will be the 4th Passover without you here. That is a hard pill to swallow. Passover is always the start of the year for our holidays without you. I ordered flowers for myself, they look beautiful on the table as centerpieces. 

Anyway baby girl. Wish time could stand still. I have to run to get ready before the Chag starts!

Until next time.

Love always, 

Ema

164 weeks

Dear Sonzee, 

Today marked another week without you here. This last week was one of the harder ones. I usually know when a particular week will be more challenging. The weeks surrounding specific dates and memories are the ones I attempt to mentally prepare for. I anticipate how I might feel when I know I am going to be faced with them and buckle up. This last week though, I didn't anticipate it. I didn't put it all together until I was midway through it all. It wasn't until I was racking my brain, trying to analyze every little thing that was going on in my mind that it hit me while scrolling through google photos. March was never one of your better months.

Each year in March starting around the 15th for 2015 and 2016, the 20th in 2017, and the 17th in 2019 she was inpatient for at least a week. In 2018 she had two ED stayovers on March 10 and 28. My mind didn't remember on its own, but my body did. I have felt entirely blah, sad, extra depressed, extra grumpy, etc. Every negative grief emotion has been weighing on me. The cloud is just sitting on my shoulders. It makes me extra sensitive to people acting less than intelligent. It makes me take naive (stupid) comments by people who don't even know what they are saying to heart. It makes me feel guilty over things that I know deep down I shouldn't.

It is surprising that after 3 years of this journey that I wouldn't be more prepared for these times. Maybe I actually am because I was now able to recognize what was going on and give it a name? Maybe that is the moving forward of grief? Maybe this is some sort of celebratory Sonzeestone? I suppose if I am implementing the "being kinder to myself" lesson from the resilient parenting class I would tell myself that this is positive progress, no maybes. If it were someone else I would tell them how amazing it was that they identified their feelings and were able to recognize how challenging these times can be and that is okay. Their emotions are ok. Their responses to others are acceptable and it is ok. They have been through a lot.

This week someone made a comment to me that I haven't been able to really shake. I know it came from a place of them never having to bury a child. I know it came from a place of sheer ignorance and the inability to truly even consider how they might truly feel if they had a child die. (Similar to all those single men and women who will raise their kids so much better than the parent sitting at the fast food restaurant). Everyone assumes they know exactly how they would be if their child died. The things they would do so much better with their surviving children. The things they would or wouldn't do themselves. The strength they would have or the fact that they just couldn't survive so they would kill themselves (meaning those of us who don't must clearly love our children less). Everyone has an opinion. I wish people would keep it to themselves. I wish they would just take a moment and really think before they spoke about what a bereaved parent should or shouldn't do. If they have lost a child by all means I'd want to swap ideas on how best to handle situations, but if they haven't, I just want them to not talk. The comment didn't help my already wallowing feelings. In fact, it just made me feel unnecessary guilt. It made me miss you even more. 

I wish I didn't have to have you separated from my day-to-day life. I wish you were still here to have to balance out our life. I wish I didn't know all about grieving a child. I wish I didn't know everything I have learned because of your life and death. I guess I could be positive and say I am thankful for all I have learned, but I wish it didn't come with your challenging life and then death as a consolation.

Anyway baby girl. It is hard to truly grasp 164 Mondays have passed me by without a Sonzee snuggle or being able to hear your baby bear growl. It is hard to grasp you haven't seized for that length of time as well. (Thank you, Hashem!!)

Until next time my love.

Love always, 

Ema

Cop out?

During Sonzee's life when someone would outright state or even insinuate that their problems weren't equivalent to what our family was going through, I was always quick to stop them and let them know that it wasn't fair to compare. Everyone has their own challenges and threshold of what they can handle, and it isn't fair to assign weight to them. I always felt that comparing anything besides a comparable life was equivalent to comparing an apple with a pineapple. They share the category of fruit. Diminishing what someone else is experiencing doesn't make what challenges another person any heavier. They both are what they are to each of them. 

Being a parent of a child who died is a unique category. (Thankfully) There are fewer (but really too many) members of this group. I have found myself confused and not confident in the role of parenting after a child's loss. For the last 3 years, I have been confused as to what subcategory of life we have fallen into. Are we still a medically complex family? Are we a hockey family? Are we a typical family? Do we have the right to have accommodations made like they once were when we had a child who was medically complex and then dying? In what category do our surviving children fall? After all, children are resilient, right?! 

When the world returned to normal after Covid, so did we. As if we didn't experience the death of a family member. Unless you know us from before, or unless one of us mentions it after, you wouldn't know. We blend into life. The kids are in extracurricular activities, we travel, we spend our summers away, Sam and I both work, we smile, we laugh, and for all intents and purposes, we act as if we have the perfect family. Sometimes, but rarely our emotions are on our sleeves. Unless people want to travel the grief journey along with us, they too can pretend that our lives are normal. They can stay far enough away from the unimaginable pain they are thankfully able to avoid and tune into the part of our life that we outwardly display. 

Among fellow bereaved mothers, I mentioned my conflict with what is grief? and what is normal? I shared with others the everyday pain, the lack of energy, the lack of motivation, the anger, the frustration, the short tempers, the feeling of being a failure as a parent, the challenges with deciphering what is teen/child typical behavior and what is related to grief. I mentioned that I was torn on if the behaviors my children are exhibiting are typical or if it is grief. Is the grief a cop-out? Is it fair to place the onus on grief? I listed all of the struggles I have felt but didn't want to be told by someone who is not in a similar situation that "of course, it is grief, of course, you're experiencing all of those emotions, you lost a child"

It was at the same moment that I was speaking my thoughts aloud that I started to process the entirety of the last 8 years. The actual significance of parenting a child who was medically complex and whom we knew we would one day bury as a child, but didn't know exactly when. I had a million flashbacks of a life that went by incredibly fast that simultaneously took 4 years 11 months and 23 days of her siblings' lives as well. I listened as a mother responded to me about how she wishes she could surround herself with my bubbliness every day because maybe it would help her feel motivated. I listened as she said she was processing everything I was saying. I listened with tears in my eyes as she said, "but Randi, a cop-out?! Honey, it is not a cop-out, it is your reality, it is your life"

For the last 2.5 hours since she said that sentence to me I have repeated it in my mind while thinking about all those times, I shrugged off the weight of all we have endured. I have thought about the words while thinking about the fact that 3 years ago our children's ages ranged from barely 2 years old to barely 10, none even old enough to sit in the front seat (and due to height, all were still in car seats or boosters). I think about how not only did we have to deal with Covid, but we also had to deal with the death of a significant family member. We buried a child and sibling who didn't go longer than a month of her life going into a hospital. A child who spent close to half of her life in-patient at a hospital. I have thought about it all on repeat. There is no comparison to anyone who has experienced a loss of any kind. There is no it is worse because of "XYZ", there is none of that. But, also, there is no coping out, and there is no cushioning the reality. The reality is that there is no denying that things are different for us and they are harder in many ways, there is just no way to sugar-coat that. There is no coping out because the struggles we have had to face as a family are not normal, they do warrant some extra attention and some extra accommodations, but most importantly, they mostly warrant giving ourselves a little more grace.      

163 weeks

Dear Sonzee, 

As I mentioned in my letter last week, it was Spring break for me, but not your siblings. Meena went back to school on Thursday and I spent the day shopping with bubbie after we went out for lunch. Friday morning I went with a co-worker to the Queen Creek Olive Mill and it was so fascinating to learn about the olive industry while it was also a fun place to explore. We spent a couple of hours there and then I went to check in at the hotel for the weekend in Gilbert due to Tzvi's final hockey tournament of the season. His first game was 5:10pm Friday night. 

I will recap the weekend, although I am fairly sure you played a role in the outcome of it all. Your brother isn't exactly happy with it, but I personally think it was for the best. As you know he lost the first game Friday night. Saturday during the day his team played at 1:00pm and they ended up in a tie. In the evening game they lost. Two situations occurred that could theoretically be debatable, but it is 12u hockey and not the NHL. 

During the 1pm game while our boys had 3 boys playing against 5, one of the boys made a shot and it was called "no goal", however, it looked like it clearly went in and that it was scooped out. Had that been counted, they would have won that game and then had a chance to make it into the final championship today. But, then during the evening game, the other team made a shot, it didn't look like it crossed the line, the goalie had the puck and they called it a goal. Nurse Paige came and Tzvi's streak continues to score a goal whenever she comes to a game. I love that she is still part of our family. It makes me smile knowing that I kept my promise in my funeral letter to you that I would keep in touch with everyone you were close with. The game sadly ended in a 2-3 loss for us, with that team securing their spot in the final championship game and us in the consolation game.

To say our boys were devastated would be an understatement, but from some of our parent perspective, we felt it would be better to end the season on a potential win than to go out on a most probable loss. Fast forward to today, when our boys beat the team in our final game of the season to end on a high note. (Minus your brother who was upset he didn't play his best and was still upset they weren't in the finals). In the end, the team that won the finals was the underdog (as the rest of the teams in our bracket were compared to the #1 seed going into the tournament). I am not quite sure our team could have pulled off that win and then we would have had a loss to end our season. 

I personally feel you played a part in this arrangement, as the way it worked out had to be orchestrated in the manner it did for the teams to play in the games they did. I thank you and appreciate all that you did. Your brother asked if you could have the other team win, why couldn't you have his team win? It just wasn't what was meant to be. They came so far as a team and I am excited to see where the next year will take him. 

This has been one of my favorite seasons on a team. No drama from kids or parents. Just an entire season of fun, despite the losses. I am sad it is over, but excited for a few weeks of hockey not being the priority of the home. He has a little less than 2 months until tryouts, so I have a little less than 2 months to get my cortisol levels and ability to cope with the chaos of hockey tryouts in order.  He has his team party and awards ceremony coming up and both are on a Sunday so we are looking forward to that.

Next season will be his last season of no-checking, his second year of peewee hockey. It will be Meena's first competitive gymnastics season and our first divide-and-conquer sporting season. The official VV summer countdown has dropped below 100 and I am beyond excited to be back in NY for a couple of months. It is insane that we are more than halfway through March. I hope you have a great week ahead. I love and miss you, baby girl!

Love always. 

Until next time, 

Ema

162 weeks and 2 days

Dear Sonzee, 

The last time I was able to sit down and write to you was 10 days ago. I swear the days go by quicker every day or the days are just getting shorter. Being that we are getting closer to Spring, I am going to go with the time is just moving at the speed of light. 

Last week I got a text from a co-worker who does early intervention, it was a picture of your street sign!

I then decided to drive down Bethany Home Road to get the other sign and also try and grab another view of this one. 

I need to schedule another cleanup for the end of March or early April. 

I finished my 4th week of the resilient parenting program that is paired with ASU and Hospice of the Valley. I am working on doing 1:1 times with each of your siblings, we have a family game night once a week, and I have to do mindful breathing, and comfort activities for myself. The idea is to set the foundation to be able to not only work on my coping with grief but so that the kids can work on theirs. So far week 2 of the 1:1 times has been successful. We have done family game night 2 weeks in a row and that has been great as well. Your siblings are enjoying all the above. (Or appear to be at least). I have to also "catch them doing good" and comment on those things as well. This week's new addition is active listening. I am really hoping this class changes the dynamic at home, and so far it appears to be doing so. 

Aba moved his stuff out of the warehouse so he could rent his space to another company, meaning so much stuff was brought to the house. I reorganized the garage and we now have a perfect shoe location so the shoes don't enter the house! Jackpot! In addition, I finally put up the purell holders, it makes me smile thinking of you!

This week is my spring break (not your siblings). I have spent 2 days with Meena because she has been sick, but I have gotten a lot of things accomplished at home thankfully despite that. I have sent off a lot of clothing to be made into blankets. I finally even sent off my college shirts! I am doing Tzvi's first hockey jerseys from the last few years of travel and Laeya's baby clothing. I sent your items off last week. I am very excited to finally be getting these made! They are all long overdue. 

Laeya finally got the cast on her wrist! It will be 3 weeks in this and then a removable cast. All in all, it will be close to 8 weeks or so of some form of splint/cast when she is done with this endeavor. She went big this time!

Tzvi has his state finals this weekend in Gilbert. Please stop by if your schedule allows it! We are hoping to cause an upset and win first, we shall see how it goes!

Love you, baby girl!

Until next time.

Love always, 

Ema