My dear Lucy girl,

I’m a bit late getting to your letter, but I know you understand, especially this time. It’s been all about your baby brother Everett this week and last… we finally brought him home! I have felt your presence (and your absence) quite a lot since he arrived. Sometimes I see you in him when I look at his face, sometimes I feel you with me when I hold him in my arms. I love that he looks a bit like you. Your Great Grandma was taken with how much Everett looks like his big sister; she said it best when she said that holding him was almost like finally getting to hold both of you.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve found myself thinking about what it could have been like if you were here, as a two-year-old, to welcome Everett home with us. I swallow the lump in my throat and try not to think about it too much because sometimes it just hurts too much. We were driving home from Everett’s pediatrician appointment earlier this week, and as I looked out the car window, my gaze landed on the clouds. There was something in them, and I still can’t say what exactly, that reminded me of you and again I felt your presence and  absence all at once. I couldn’t help but cry. It should all be different.

I need to thank you though, because you have given me strength and courage when I’ve needed it most lately. I feel it coming from you somehow. Like when I was in surgery to deliver Everett in the same room you were delivered in. Or on night two in the hospital when little Everett wouldn’t stop crying and we no longer knew exactly what to do. I already see that I parent in a way that’s patient and forgiving because of you. I find joy in the ordinary things and humor in the absurdities that can arise in things like diaper changing or spit up incidents. There’s a measure of joy in all of it, even at 3 in the morning for yet another night with your night owl brother. I know that I am able to embrace it all, especially the tougher parts, because I have learned from you. We all know what the alternative to this is, and that makes me unbelievably grateful for every messy, beautiful moment.

As you know (since you are with me always), time is a limited commodity right now with your newborn brother needing my attention, so I must wrap up this little letter. Really though, you’re always in my thoughts, and I am always composing my Lucy letters in my head, no matter what I’m doing. I miss you and I wish you were here, always. You’re still my heart, baby girl, and I love you endlessly.

Love Always,

Mommy