Haddie Bo Bo,

I love you!

Recently I have been on the receiving end of many’s generosity and kindness.

It was a later in the evening and Daddy, Elo, and I decided to take a quick Target run.  It had just been a long day at home so I still had the same pony tail hair from yesterday.  I was wearing a hoodie from 2003, and my sweatpants were not so stylishly some-what tucked into my rain boots.  Your Daddy had the same look going on minus the ponytail hair.  We only went for 1 or 2 things but Target trips always turn into something else.  We were staring at the wall of juices when we were startled by a lady whisking by us saying, “Hi Bromley Family”.  I barely got out a Hello because I was so stunned.  We finished our shopping and headed to the check out.  I was startled again when someone I didn’t know said, “Are you Sandy?”  She handed me a gift card that was left for us at the front.  Immediately I started to cry.  For many reasons.  I was shocked and taken by surprise.  I was also blown away at the kindness this lady showed my family.  To know that we were thought of and loved blows me away.  In this gift I also know that you were honored, remembered, and loved.  Which was the main reason for my tears.

I have had a couple moments this last week where I have found myself doing a normal activity only to stop and think of how different this moment would be if you were here.  One of them being working out in my living room.  I was on the floor doing an exercise and I realized how easy it was.  It was easy because my 17 month old wasn’t here to climb all over me.  I could finish my work out with out stopping to get you snack, or pick you up if you were crying, or separate you from disagreement with your sister.  Such a little thing really, a 30 minute workout.  But yet your absence was loud in my head.

Tuesday I dropped Eloise off at school and headed to a friend’s house.  I hadn’t seen her in awhile and it was nice to catch up.  Your Daddy called me while I was there and I told him a story that happened that morning.  Eloise was at the kitchen table eating her yogurt.  Out of no where she said, “Haddie Bo Bo is gone and it’s all my fault.”  It took my breath away that she would say this.  I said, “Elo it is not your fault Haddie isn’t here.  Please don’t ever think that.  Mama and Daddy love you so much.”  She went on to say, “I miss her, She’s in Heaven, and it’s my fault.”  Now granted Elo has been using the phrase, “It’s all my fault” with a lot of things these days and most of the time when she says it, it doesn’t make sense.  So I am hoping she really doesn’t think it’s her fault that you aren’t here.  I hung up the phone with Daddy.  My friend said, “I can’t believe that conversation you just had.”  She went on to explain that the content of the story was so incredibly sad, but the way we talked about it was completely normal.  It was shocking to her that this is our normal conversation in life.  I could tell that she was sad for me and maybe had teared up listening to that conversation.

It did make me think about our “normal” conversations on a day to day and realize how not normal they would be for anyone else.  I told your Daddy about it and he said, “Well after you have to live through a funeral for your child, nothing really compares to that.”  

I know you are happy in heaven, but I still and always will selfishly want you here.  You belong here.  That should be our normal.

Elo at Music Class

You know we love our selfies…miss you of course!

Love you,