Jul 19, 2010 17:04
It was three years ago today that we lost you. In some ways I can’t believe it’s been three years already and in others I swear I have felt every single minute of these years down to my bones. In this case time has been a healer though, because while I still think of you every day I do so now without as much pain. But while time has taken the sting of your death, it’s also started to take you away from me. I can no longer recall the sound of your voice or the way you laughed. I hate that these parts of you are fading away but that’s what time does. It heals. It makes into distant memory what used to be present anguish. I’m thankful that the hurt is gone, but I miss you. And I’m sad that I can no longer remember the details that made you, you.
Thankfully I have held onto the memory of the way you smelled and when I’m sick with a migraine sometimes I can almost feel your cool hand against my forehead, soothing it away. Whenever I talk to James we share a funny story about you, one that makes us both laugh and helps keep you alive in his heart. He never lets a chance to talk about you slip by and even remembers your birthday each year. He was only 7 when you left us, but somehow he is the one who remembers the most about you. I’ll never forget those big tears rolling down his face the day we spread your ashes at the Oregon coast and him saying, “Thank you Grandma, for doing everything for me and taking care of me.” He misses you, too. He’s doing a pretty good job of growing up, but I wish you were here to love him in that unconditional way only you seemed to know how. I try my best, but it’s not the same and he needs that kind of love.
Oh Mom, if only you could have had the joy of knowing baby JT and him the honor of knowing you. You would go bananas for that baby. He has the biggest, bluest eyes in the history of the world and he is absolutely perfect in every way. I’m sorry that he won’t ever get to know you and that you will never get to know him. You are missing out on so much and it breaks my heart for you, because you would have loved these past three years. They’ve been hard but they’ve also been wonderful. I’m sad that you aren’t here to comfort us during the bad times and share joy with us during the good times. Anyway, he is such a good baby and we are all spoiling him completely rotten. He follows Marissa around and thinks she’s the coolest thing.
Marissa is such a young lady now. She’s starting high school and is nearly as tall as me, which means she would be taller than you by at least 2”. She is as elegant as a 14 year old can be, and she is extremely kind. I know you would be so proud of her and how grown up she is becoming. Gone is the rolly polly little girl with the bobbed hair. I don’t know where she went but in her place is a tall, slender young lady. She is an honors student, of course and takes her studies very seriously because she wants to go away to college and Josh has told her she’ll have to figure out how to pay for it on her own.
Josh is pretty grown up now, too. He’s married again, so I’m no longer the only Sarah Barr in the family anymore. That still sort of annoys me, but at least I like her. You would like her too. She’s level headed and does an outstanding job of tolerating Josh’s bullshit until he says something just a little too stupid, and then she puts him in his place. They seem happy together. They built a new house out in Queen Creek, not far from the one you and Josh were building when you died. I think they’ll be happy out there for many years to come, but that doesn’t stop me from bitching whenever I have to make the hour long drive from Phoenix.
As for me, well I’m good. I remember you telling me that you wanted me to be settled before you died, and I laughed you off. But I understand now what you meant, that you wanted me to have an anchor. You must have known that while I thought I was so self-sufficient and confident, I was actually still a lost little girl. It wasn’t until you were gone that I realized how much you rooted me to the earth and made me feel as if I belonged somewhere. It’s taken three years, but I think I’m finally starting to find my footing again. I know that without you I will feel somewhat off balance for the rest of my life but I think that’s okay. And I’m learning how to anchor myself to the earth, to be my own support system and best friend. You equipped me with everything I needed to have a wonderful, happy and successful life and I thank you so much for that. I promise I will do my best to live the best life I can.
I love you and I miss you every day. And I always will.
Love,
Sarah
mom