It has been seven months since I held you in my arms. I cannot believe it has been so long. The world doesn’t really make sense for me without you. My Sidney bear finally arrived. It is a beautiful bear, with a bow tie that has elephants on it, to symbolize the elephants we had bought for your monthly pictures, and with a firetruck on its tummy, because your brother wanted to name you fireman.
But no matter how cute the bear is, I don’t want a bear. I want you. I want to be able to hold you, to kiss you, to watch you grow and develop as the beautiful little boy that I know you would have been. You would most likely be sitting by now, babbling away, your distinct personality already shining through. I try not to think too much about what milestones you would be getting to, but sometimes it is just too hard. Your brother misses you too. He is gentle with the ‘Sidney bear’, just like I think he would have been with you.
Today, I went to a walk-in clinic. I pinched a nerve in my neck and it was causing a radiating pain down my shoulder and arm–the pain wasn’t going away and I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to get it looked at. But now, whenever I go to doctors, my blood pressure shoots up, a small PTSD symptom from your death. So I told the nurse to please take it again, that I have anxiety since you died. Her eyes filled with tears, and she said she was so sorry. She asked some questions about you. I like being able to talk about you, but I wish I had a different story to tell.
We went to the play ground with your brother today, a playground built in memory of a six year old who was killed by a drunk driver when she was crossing the street. So much death. So much pain.
This has been a very hard month for our family. More tragedy. Grandma, daddy’s mom, joined you. Just a few weeks ago, out of the blue, she was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. We changed our plans, and went to spend Thanksgiving with her and grandpa. We brought Sidney bear but I wanted to bring you. Grandma was supposed to meet with the oncologist Friday, but Wednesday night, she felt out of breath, so grandpa took her to the hospital, and an hour later, she was gone. She died holding grandpa’s hand. (I have a lot more I could say about this, but this is not my story to tell, and I want to be respectful to my husband and his family). But even in her death, grandma touched my heart in her love and respect for you. In preparation, she wrote her own obituary. And in that obituary, she wrote, she has one grandson, Sidney, who pre-deceased her. She included you. She loved you. And now she is gone too. We are in shock, and I am scared for daddy and for your brother. Grandma loved you so much. We all love you so much.
Eli has been more clingy lately. How can he not, when you and grandma, out of the blue, both died within seven months. He is scared. I am scared. I am so scared without you.
I love you so much.
Always and forever, my dearest son, always and forever.