Thursday, June 17, 2010
To My Lucy Sweet
My darling Lucy,
You had another birthday here on earth--This strange place where the tick of a clock rules over us. I wonder if you were here.
We celebrated your life with family and dear friends. We didn't sing Happy Birthday because it makes daddy sad and uncomfortable. I'm not sure what the right thing to do is. It's hard to know. We ate your favorite food (hot dogs), and Daddy thanked everyone for coming and for loving us. He talked about the Resurrection and hope in the Savior. Everyone is so supportive. I wondered if we should play games. What games would you have liked? We had delicious caramel cupcakes. The weather was too cold and rainy so we gathered at your friend Mathew Hale's house. He's getting so big. He makes me miss you.
On your actual birthday, Daddy and I got to present a fireside at a Young Women's Camp in Heber City. It was so wonderful to share all about you and the things you have taught us. We cried a lot and met incredible people. I felt it was a worthwhile thing to do on your birthday. I got to sing...and you know how much I love that. Sometimes it is easier for me to share my thoughts and feelings through song. I miss singing to you, daughter.
So what would you be like as a four year old? Do you know? How would you be with Peter? Would you be a little mommy over him? I wish I knew.
Sometimes I feel very alone, Lucy. Alone in my grief, in my thoughts. I go to the theatre at night and get to sing and dance with young, energetic performers. Most of them don't have children of their own. Maybe some of them don't even know I have a daughter. I feel separate. Different. Hurting so much on the inside but doing the running man with blue eyeshadow on the outside. I'm finding it hard to balance things. The new house, my desires and dreams, motherhood...but I feel how time is moving forward. I sense how short this life is. That gives me hope. It makes me want to make better decisions. It points me back to you.
Do you celebrate birthdays in heaven, Lucy? I think you must to a certain degree. It is a big thing to enter mortality.
Have you seen how big your brother is getting? He reminds us more and more of you. He started walking on your birthday. What a sweet gift.
This birthday letter is filled with many questions, Lucy. I struggle to know what to give you as a gift this year. I feel I am doing well following my theme for the year "2010--Let the Fun Begin". It's not easy, but I am finding the silver lining. But I want to give you something more personal. Do you have any good ideas? What would you like?
I look at your photos and I see Peter. I look at Peter and I see you. It is astonishing to me how much alike you look. Perhaps my gift to you will be to take greater care of him. To be the kind of mommy I want to be. Fewer distractions. More playing. Living in the moment. I think it is actually a blessing that you look so much alike. Part of you lives on in him. I will do that for you. And as I write this something else very powerful came to me--I am going to finally sit down and write a letter to the people who received your organs. That is what I am going to do as well. That will be big. That will be monumental for me.
I love you, Lucy. I miss you. It's pitiful to say that. But daddy and I say it over and over, "I miss Lucy. I miss Lucy."
Happy Birthday my perfect girl. You are the most beautiful thing I've ever beheld.
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