Mourning is difficult for anyone. For me it is hard because I hate to cry. I know that this sounds dumb, but I hate feeling weak and vulnerable. Throughout this entire journey I have felt so vulnerable and I have not cared. Not even for a second have I worried about my vulnerability or that people have had to step in to help me. I am learning to receive help and be thankful rather than fight against it with the urge to do things on my own. For the first time in my life, I do not feel that I can do something on my own. Adeline, I look at this picture of you, taken on Halloween all day long. I look at your smile, the eye make up, and think about how I always wanted to have a family Halloween costume and no one could agree until this year when you suggested a family Halloween.
I decided a few days ago that the last thing that Adeline would want is for me to not be able to share about who she was and how amazing of a life that she led for a little girl. So, mornings are my time to mourn. Mornings are when I sit with tears streaming down my face thinking of happier times when Adeline was here with us, when I could hold her hand, see her smile in front of me, and feel her kisses. I miss all of this so much and there is a longing within me that I know will never go away. At the beginning of this journey, and still some days, this pain scares me. It scares me to fall asleep knowing that the next day will be another day without her smile, another day that I don't hear her laugh, another day that I can't hold her little hand in mine, another day that I won't get a hug or a kiss, another day that I will feel such a strong longing in my soul that I have to tell myself to breathe.
Some days I feel like Hansel and Gretel. I feel like I am searching for the bread crumbs that you left us to know that you were preparing to leave. There were so many of these, just like suggesting that desired family costume, something that I had wanted for so long and yet something that the other kids (and even you) had fought against for years. It is like you gave me this family costume, that you suggested in hopes that I would be okay and have this memory to hold onto. I don't think that I can fathom another family Halloween costume with you gone. I just feel like it wouldn't be possible for me to feel okay without my baby here with me. I am so thankful that I got this one family Halloween costume (Althea is Thing and wore a black full body suit with the hand cut off, look to Shane's shoulder to see her.)
My dear Sweet Adeline, mommy hopes that you can read this. Mommy wants you to know how loved you still are. Mommy wants you to know that every fiber of my being has to maintain mindfulness in order to keep from sobbing all day long. I still have moments that take my breath away and moments where I see something and have tears, but I can talk about you now with a few tears rather than not being able to speak because I am sobbing so hard. I can share your amazingness and your little life with people to tell them just how wonderful of a little girl you are. I can share all of your stories from being on Earth and all of the adventures that we had and a part of me will smile through the tears as I remember these amazing experiences and joys with you. My heart breaks each day my littlest love. I need you present with me. I need to physically see you, to touch you, to feel you on my lap. I just need you and know that it will never happen and that you will never again come crawling into my bed in the early morning hours. What I wouldn't give to have you here, with me, again. I would literally give anything to just hold you in my arms. I still don't understand God's plan, God's purpose, or why he had to take you from me. I don't think that I will ever be able to comprehend why God would choose you, someone so wise with such a beautiful spirit who I was so sure was going to do the most amazing things as they grew up. You did the most amazing things while you were here on earth, in your short 9 years you accomplished so much that other people want to accomplish and never do. You were able to do things that adults have strived for years to do and yet they came easy and naturally to you. Everyone loved you Adeline and you were such a light that we are constantly being told stories about how much people loved you. You are leaving a legacy behind that daddy and I will fight to keep alive until the day that we die. You will never not be talked about, shared about, or honored in some way. I literally start out each task with a thought about you and everything important that I do, I sit and think about what you would have wanted, if you would have been proud, and how you would have reacted. This is what gets me through the long days. This is what helps me to keep living without you, when living is the last thing that I want to do.