Dear Olivia,

Everyone’s gone home and as I imagined, it’s been another one of those incredibly long rough days. 

One of daddy’s friends from Rotary, Jan, sent us a bereavement book. Jan lost her son over 30 years ago and she said the book she mailed us is one of the only ones that made sense and helped her through the process. I started reading it yesterday. It helps. 

When we left the hospital they gave us a packet of bereavement resources. I haven’t had much time to look through it all, but I plan to tomorrow. I’d like to go to a parent bereavement group, if one exists. The book says that if I’m around other people who have been in my shoes it might help me move forward with a little more ease. I want to move forward…someday. 

I keep thinking about your birthday. The texture party we were gonna have for you. For the first time in my life I’m mad at myself for planning ahead. I wish we wouldn’t have already decided on your party theme and how we were going to put it all together in five big tubs to represent your fifth birthday. It’s painful and it makes me angry. 

Before Uncle Chaddy, Aunt Alyssa and Aria left I packed up all your clothes. I thought about it and it made more sense to give them to Aria rather than a random stranger. I kept the things that I couldn’t let go of, but for the most part I gave everything to your favorite cousin. She’ll look just as cute as you wearing them and it will make me feel good knowing that they’re being worn by someone we both love. I also gave her a couple pairs of your shoes, the ones you hardly wore. I couldn’t give her your Vans. They’re still tucked in your shoe holder with the others that have been gently used.

I’ve been thinking about your classmates and how they probably miss you. They probably have a lot of snack leftover because your not there to take it and they’re probably wondering who’s going to bring pasta to the rest of the classroom parties this year.  I’ve decided that I’m going to finish the Valentine’s Day cards that you and I talked about doing. I think your classmates will love them. Hopefully it doesn’t confuse them. Maybe I should also ask Miss Kimberly to take your usual pasta dish with your cards. I wish you were here to take it all yourself.  

I miss you so much. 

Love,

Momma