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dear elly,

friday is sissy's birthday.  you would have been seven months old.  always into numbers, your dad and i were so excited that your birthday was 3/7 the combination of the birthdays of your siblings.  i woke up thinking about you today baby, your warm body cradled into mine the last time i held you.  your peach fuzz of dark hair against your scalp.  how is it that i barely knew you and yet i miss you terribly, missing the soul that knew mine so well.

i remember on daddy's birthday i was holding you and drinking half a glass of wine and your brother and sister were just going nuts playing "playground" on our couch.  they were (rarely) completely occupying themselves and you and i were just hanging and i thought to myself "this is the most chill baby i have ever seen" part of me wishes i knew in that moment what was coming ten days later.

i woke up thinking about you today.  i haven't really been crying since i moved and i needed it today, which is partly why you are getting this letter.  i am sorry that i am using thoughts to you as an emotional release for me.  i hope you know how special you were to me, i am so sorry i wasn't a better mom, i'm sorry i failed.

you sit on my dresser, in this beautiful blue urn, it's probably the size of a teacup.  that small, diminutive nature of it breaks my heart open when i look at it.  today, it is not enough.  today, i want to hold you.  today, i am raging at what i lost when you left this world.  today, i want my baby.

ellybean, your sissy misses you.  she always pretends that i'm her sister now.  "mom, we are sisters, the two of us mom, you're my sister."  your brother misses you, it breaks my heart when i see him with another baby, i know he misses you.  oh elly, would i to have suffered a thousand deaths in your place i would do it.

there was a part of me that had a hard time grieving you after your daddy died.  i mean, truth be told, it shut me down for a while, then i could only look at your death as this bizarre catalyst for the hell i endured, and now it is finally separate again.  the death of my daughter once again, the burning scar it should be.

elly, i wish i was holding you today.  i wish the bittersweet pain of seeing you grow up was mine to bear.  i wish your dimpled thighs were against mine in our bed as i snuggled you in the morning, aghast that seven months with this chubby little monster have slipped by already.  i wish i was getting ready to dress you for your first halloween and that when i buy you something it doesn't feel so empty when it gets here to serve as a reminder of you.  i wish addy had her real sissy here, i wish you were ours elly.

love you baby, please give your daddy a kiss from all of us and give my mommy a hug from me because today i really miss her too.
love your mommy.  xoxoxxxx.

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to everyone who has never been touched by suicide,

i get it.  i used to be like you too.  here are the most common views of suicide i either heard or personally held growing up:

that person is selfish
that person is crazy
that person is a coward
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they were depressed for a long time and finally went through with it
there are always warning signs, so people know it's coming
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THAT IT WOULDN'T AFFECT ME


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dreams.

to my love,

i hope you know how much i miss you.  the words, of course, fall short.  but there they are, just the same.  i.miss.you.  i told addy that you and elly can live in our hearts forever, but this of course is a lie.  death is permanent and there is no living to be done once the breathe leaves our bodies.  you are not living on in our hearts, minds, or souls.  there is no living to yet be done for you.  instead we are left with our memories which time will eventually dull.  numbing ourselves to the very sense of you.  it is that way for me with my mom, my memories of her are stunted and few and we had eight years together.

does it bother you to know the only real remembrance your children will have of you is seen through my eyes and my hearts?  the sharp reality of their dad is forever lost to them.

people are trying to instill hope in me in regards to my future.  i know they mean well but it is coming off condescending.  no one but my own being knows my pain.  i am not here…
Dear Cavs,

Our playoff season started the day my five week old daughter, Elly, passed away, twelve days later my husband also died suddenly.
Your road to the finals, so fraught with emotion was also the start of a very difficult, seemingly impossible journey for me.

I started watching at game five... when we were down 3-1, I thought for sure that we would lose that game- when we won, all of a sudden- I cared.  When so many lights had gone out for me there was all of a sudden very small glimmer of hope and dare I say satisfaction possibly ahead.

It would have seemed from the circumstances that I shouldn't care whether we won or lost, so many things in my life didn't hold their meaning anymore- but I did.  I couldn't help it.  The enthusiasm was infectious.  These games gave  me hope.

I watched as you won game five and game six and I'll never forget seeing Kyrie on the bench after six holding up his seven fingers.... Here we go.

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