While driving home on Christmas Eve with your two brothers seated quietly in the backseat, your dad said, “Christmas has a different meaning to us.”
And I replied, “Yes it does, but we have to make it happy for the boys.”
And so 26 Dec has finally came and ended. Your dad misses you in his own way, while I make it my personal mission to keep your memory alive. We talk about you to your brothers as if you are still very much with us, yet, there is that bitterness that doesn’t go away even though this is now the 3rd year of your passing.
Family photos just don’t feel complete.
Isaac, your younger brother and almost 14 months, would hug and kiss your happy-go-lucky big brother Tyler, and I would imagine you joining in.
Or when both the boys are chasing one another down, for a brief second, I imagine you shrieking after them as you play with your brothers.
When we are on our way to grandma’s, Isaac would be snug in the sling and I will be holding Tyler’s hand and my other hand … empty. It would have been nice to have my hands full.
I feel comforted when your big brother tells me that he sees you watching over him as he sleeps. That you are happy in heaven with Jesus and God. That he wants to buy you a present or write you a card on your birthday.
That he loves you so much.
And somehow, you told him to tell me… you love your dad and I.
I really hope you don’t stop talking to your sometimes scatter-brained brother.
Since Isaac has never known you, your dad and I feel it even more important to tell him about his brave sister. He would point at your picture when I ask him, “Where’s 姐姐 (older sister)?” And I would raise him high up onto my shoulder so that he can see you, always with a big grin on his face.
Isaac looked at me and pointed upwards to the ceiling of the bathroom, as if to tell me, she is in heaven, Mama, and she is ok.
I know you are, more than ok, in heaven. But I still imagine all that could have been. Don’t forget we love you.[youtube:http://youtu.be/OEW_xenfaz0%5D