July 24, 2016
Dearest Isaac,
Tomorrow, we get a piece of you back . . . a physical piece that is. On the one hand, this is not at all what I want. I want to hold you in my arms. I want to cuddle you. I want to sing to you, to feed you and change your diapers. I want to know what color your eyes would have been. I want to watch you flourish and become the amazing son and man that I know you would have been. On the other hand, I know that is not possible, and a small physical piece of you is better than nothing at all.
Mommy had a hard day of missing you, Isaac. I keep waiting for someone to wake me up from this twisted nightmare. This was never how it was supposed to be. If Mommy and Daddy’s love alone had been all you needed, you would have lived forever.
I’m sorry to be such a downer – I did, after all, promise lighter and happier things. We made “progress” today. Daddy convinced Mommy to get in Big Brown again. You see, we went out on a lunch and ice cream adventure to Squam Marketplace in Big Brown the day before we lost you. The idea of going without you terrified me. I decided I just had to push through the sadness and go for it, or risk never getting in that beautiful boat again. Daddy and I sat in the way back. Sure – I bawled the first few minutes (I miss my baby), but slowly I let Daddy, the beautiful day and the gorgeous lake remind me that life (as terrible as it may seem at times) is still something to cherish. You aren’t here to enjoy things like boat rides; so I have to appreciate them for the both of us. I am choosing to live and enjoy my life, and be a better person while doing so, because you deserve it.
Also, your Daddy was amazing. He comforted me and sheltered me from the cold spraying water. We even had a date (of sorts) tonight. We watched a cheesy movie (Terminator), ate Meatloaf and had some wine. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I love him.
The rest of the family went out. We considered going, but Daddy decided I am not ready and he is almost always right. If I am overwhelmed by the family dinner table, how will I feel in public? Right now? Raw, exposed and vulnerable. Plus the idea of pants or other clothing makes me way too uncomfortable. Besides, the alone time with Daddy was much needed. Did I mention I’ll love him? I’ll have to start telling you stories about our nearly 6 years together. If someone had told us 6 years ago where we would be today, we would not have believed it, but despite the pain I would do it all over again for the time we had with you.
Love you always,
Mommy