Dear Griffin,
My heart, my soul, my beloved, my sunshine...
We've been home for 3 full days now, and it's still not home. I'm not sure it ever will be again without you. It's the same place, same smells, same things...but it feels incomplete without you. Like going to a place you used to know but everything has changed. It's been built up and torn down, the topography rearranged, and it's only now familiar because the directions say it's the right place.
I called insurance today and reported you had passed away. I returned all our your medical equipment yesterday. Tomorrow I'll begin giving some of your supplies to children like you who need it. I go in your room and sit quietly, seeing a million memories dance around your sacred space behind the film of grief that clouds my eyes.
I miss you, endlessly and without words to articulate how deeply much. I have moments where I'm busy, distracted, even content. But your absence is always there - sometimes quiet and sometimes roaring - permanently etched into every fiber of my being and consciousness. I'm never not aware that you are not here with me. I resist the urge so fervently to add to the end of that thought: and you should be, every time I process it.
We decorated for Christmas a bit, and I stared at the lights knowing you would be sitting quietly with me now if you were still here, savoring the peace and their subtle sparkle as much as I do. I am starting to map out ideas to reinvent this space that feels so lacking without you in it, ensuring you are still present in every room with something special of yours. I'm trying to be brave enough to begin planning your celebration of life and Auntie Ari showed me these perfect heart-shaped seed papers that grow wildflowers. You would love them.
I know I told you already - in fact, I've whispered it into the wind every chance I got and in every quiet moment I had today - I miss you. I hope you know that, I hope you hear me. I hope you feel all the endless, tremendous love I have for you and wanted so much to still give and share with you. I hope I'm making you proud and doing this right as best I can. I hope you're dancing and playing with Jesus in heaven, and all your friends and family that met and welcomed you when you got there. Heaven is so profoundly welcome to me now in a way it wasn't before you left, and as I envision you there now. You have untethered me to this life and place in so many ways. But I'll keep doing my best to do this as well as I possible can, make sure your dad, brother, and sister all feel just as loved and cared for, and make sure your legacy continues and touches people's lives until I can go there too.
I love you endlessly, all the way in Heaven,
Mama
Comments