Dear Haddie

We have some good friends that are amazing cooks.  I am not a great cook I do spaghetti pretty good, but that’s it.  So they offered to give me teaching lessons.  So we went down and we cooked together.  They have two beautiful, loving, caring, generous, teenage girls.  They are close in age but very different very similar to you and Elo.  Emma is older and she has brown wavy hair and olive skin.  Sammie has sandy blonde hair and a bright smile.  Eloise has dark brown hair, dark brown eyes, and tan skin.  Eloise is outgoing and a little wild.  You had the brightest blue eyes, the biggest smile, blonde hair, and pretty fair skin.  While we were cooking they were hanging out, laughing, and being sisters.  As I stirred the fried rice I fought the tears back.  Watching them is a glimpse into the future of the life we could have had.  The life we should have had.  The life that was taken from us.  I would love to be cooking dinner with my teenage daughters sitting around the counter on bars tools talking about their hair, their boy friends, and whatever teenage girls talk about.  It truly was a beautiful sight that I will always be envious of.  I will always feel like we were robbed, Haddie.  

I still refer to you and your sister as my girls in conversations.  Aunt Alisa has two boys so we would always talk about her boys or my girls and our hopes and dreams for you guys as you grew.  I am not ready to stop saying “my girls”.  I had to fill out a form at the counselor’s office the other day and it asked me to list my children.  I listed your sister and you.  The counselor asked if we had two other little ones at home.  I said, “No, Eloise is at home and Haddie passed away.”  You will always be a part of our family and I will always list you on any form that asks about my children.  I refuse to forget you or not include you as our family.  You make our family complete and now there is a big gaping whole.  

I stopped into Good Earth this morning to pick up some baked oatmeal.  As I was waiting in line the group of ladies in front of me were talking about how one of them was getting married tomorrow.  They were telling the lady at the cash register about their wedding plans and they were all just laughing and celebrating as they should.  I couldn’t help but think back to the day before my wedding and all the fun preparations I did with my girl friends.  So many smiles and happy memories not knowing what the future holds.  So I looked at that girl today, she was so blissfully happy.  She is just starting out this journey and she has no idea what the future holds.  I know I wasn’t thinking on that day of future tragedy that might happen.  

This week has by far been the most “normal” week since you have been gone.  With that being said it has been the hardest week to live without you.  I have had the most alone time this week, just Eloise and me.  She does keep me busy but there isn’t constant flow of conversation so I spend a lot of time in my head.  Today I went over and over the trauma of the day I found out you were gone.  Why do I do this to myself I don’t know?  I can’t seem to stop. It’s truly awful and I cannot explain the despair I feel.  I woke up early and laid in bed and listened for you.  I was hoping I could hear you in your crib talking to yourself.  The way you woke me up every morning.  I wish I could walk in your room and see you sitting there and see your eyes light up when they met mine.  You would crawl over to the side of the crib and reach your arms up and grab my shirt until I picked you up.  I loved watching you reach for me it was my favorite.  I wish I had a reset button.  I wish we could have experienced a miracle.  I wish God still brought people back from the dead.  I wish God would take us all to heaven now.  I wish I had never gone back to work after I had you.  I wish I held you longer that morning.  So many wishes baby….

Your always my girl,