2.3.24

 Dear Evelyn,

I usually sit and write you a letter the morning of your birthday, but this year, the emotions came early. My body knew what was coming before my brain could connect the dots, and I felt every ounce of emotional shield I usually carry fall away days before your birthday arrived. Everything has just been right at the surface. I think of the poem my mom sent me about grief being like waves in the ocean- some days they are small, and you don’t feel your boat rock at all, and other days, the waves are miles high and you feel like you are drowning. It’s funny how quickly your boat can drift from the calm waters to the stormy waves so quickly. It takes me by surprise every year how suddenly I can go from living my normal life to feeling like there’s no way I can make it to tomorrow. My counselor reminds me that it’s my brain’s way of protecting me, that the forgetting is a kindness. This year has been an especially confusing one to process… four years feels so far, but I also can’t remember quite where it all went. Each year, I think my mind will wonder how in the world that much time has passed, and it will sting just a little more each time that number creeps up. I’ve been filled with so much sadness this week, and more than any other year, it feels so unsettling. This pain is so strange, because there is truly nothing to be done about it. There’s no conversation to be had, no goal to meet, no relationship to mend. There’s just the feeling and the heaviness. It’s unsettling and uncomfortable to know all you can do is cry and survive through the month. I think what is unusually sad to me this year is the feeling that there is nothing left to be said. I tried my best to love and protect you while you grew inside me for six and a half months, I fell in love and worried about you for three weeks while you were out in the world, and now I’ve mourned you for four whole years. We had so little time. There are no new memories to be shared, there are no revelations to be had, there’s no new feelings to express. So, I just cry. And I lean on those who understand that there’s nothing to say, who understand that I just need someone to cry with. Those are the people who love me the most, and they are also the people who love you the most. I hope you feel their love. I hope you feel mine. So, I sat and cried thinking of you, and one thought wouldn’t leave my mind. You see, I picture you sometimes as you would be if you were with us. I try to picture little four year old you running around, making Benny play dress up, and having your dad wrapped around your finger. But when I try to picture your eyes, I realize I will never know what color they would be. I got stuck on this thought, so I wrote you a song. I want you to know that even though the world didn’t stop, and even though the ache has dulled over time, everything is still Evelyn. I love you baby girl. Happy birthday.