I hate this day - the 21st of the month. It rolls around and reminds me that you are gone. Your presence is always stronger on this day. Or I guess your lack of presence. It's not like I need a reminder, I am so much less without you - less strong, less normal, less happy, less of everything that was good about me. It was lost when you were lost because being your mother was the first really good thing that I was a part of.
I have actually started going to therapy and I know that it is good for me - I know that he will help me, and right now I think the most important thing I am learning is that I need to talk about you, and I need to accept what losing you has done to me. I want more than anything to recapture what I was so that I can be a good mother again.
What I know, thanks to you, is that I was a good mother - I have to remind myself of that daily, but I know that it was true. I have to remind myself that your addiction was yours and it was not mine, nor was it my fault. But, I still have a hard time forgiving myself for not seeing your addiction early enough. How did you hide it so well? I was paying attention... I was always paying attention to you - I was always adoring you.
When you were just a few weeks old I took you to Reggae on the River. We had back stage passes because Papa was part of the stage crew, so I got to stand just behind the stage and dance with you - no crowds, just you and me. I can't remember anything about that day other than holding you in my arms and staring down at you. I was so in love with you from the moment you existed.
I feel like I spent your life blissfully in love with you, my little girl, my family. Maybe that is why I missed your drug use. I was too enamored with your perfect glow to see that you were struggling.
My biggest regret came when you were thirteen and you confessed to me that you were a cutter. It was in the midst of an ugly fight and I thought you were taunting me. I wish I would have listened to you. I will spend the rest of my days wondering if that was before you started using... if I would have gotten you help then would you be with me now? How could you forgive me? I still can't forgive myself.
Lord, I made so many mistakes I can't calculate them. If I would have been a mature adult instead of a child desperately trying to be a mom, would you have had a better chance? Did my choice to keep you doom you from the beginning? These things are always in my mind. I can't stop trying to find a way I could have saved you, though it won't do any good.
After you came home you made me promise not to let your sister make the same mistakes you had made. I felt so responsible for the choices you had made. There were so many things that made me feel that way - you were just a baby girl, after all. No one should make such terrible mistakes as a child that they pay for them for the rest of their lives. Yet, you made the ones that you knew you would always have to pay for, and I can't help but thinking you wanted to stop paying for them after all. You wanted to stop feeling worthless, you wanted to stop worrying that you had screwed up your future. So you took it away... but you took it away from all of us and you were too young to understand that you DID have a future and you were never worthless.
When I sing your brother to sleep I imagine that you are with us. I have been singing the same song almost every night for twenty years, and I will always feel you with me when I do. Each time I sing it I think it is a prayer for you - so that we will be reunited some day.
I love you so much, Baby. You are in my heart always, you still inspire me to be a better person - to be someone that deserved you.
Love,
Mommy
I looked over Jordan
And what did I see,
Comin' for to carry me home
A band of angels
Comin' after me
Comin' for to carry me home.
Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home.
Comin' for to carry me home.
If you get there
Before I do
Comin' for to carry me home
Tell all my friends
I'll be there soon
Comin' for to carry me home.
Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home.
Comin' for to carry me home.
Sometimes I'm up
Sometimes I'm down
Comin' for to carry me home
But still my soul
Feels judgement bound
Comin' for to carry me home.
Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home
Swing low, sweet chariot
Comin' for to carry me home.
Comin' for to carry me home.
Comin' for to carry me home...
