Thursday, February 23, 2012

One week

Dear Avery,
      Today marks one week since we said hello and goodbye. It has been three days since we laid you to rest and I miss you more than ever.
     The day of your funeral was perfect. The sun was shining bright in the sky and the weather was warm.  Your daddy and I went to get you dressed early that morning and you truly looked like a tiny sleeping princess. I didn't want to let you go. We studied your fingers and toes and  ran our fingers through your velvety soft hair. I am so glad that we had that special time with you. 
      I did alright until they had to close your casket. It was so definite and so gut wrenching that I would never have the opportunity to stare at your sweet face again. I love that precious face so much. Your daddy and I kissed your little forehead and drenched you with our tears. We had to say goodbye and we walked out of the chapel so that we didn't have to watch. 
     Your funeral was beautiful. It was so special that Deacon Todd was able to do your service. He knew you during your short life and was there to baptize you right after your birth. I truly believe that he and his wife Elizabeth love you and it meant so much to have them there to celebrate your life. I wrote you a letter that I read during the service. It was really, really hard to get through, but I had to do it for you. Your daddy stood with me while I read and held me up. I couldn't have done it without him. 
     You rode with us on the way to the cemetery. It took everything I had (and your dad's much more rational voice) to not open the casket and see you again. We congregated around the Holy Innocents monument for your graveside blessing. Deacon said some beautiful words and blessed you one last time. Everyone left but our immediate family and we walked over to your grave. I wanted to stay with you until the very end.  That was the hardest walk that I have ever made. I felt like my legs didn't work. Everything was a blur. I will never forget the image of them lowering you into the ground or how deep the hole looked. I will never forget the way the red clay looked on top of your tiny white casket. I will never forget how helpless I felt when I had to walk away and leave you there. 
     I wish you could tell me what you are doing now. I wish that I could just get a little glimpse of what your life is like in heaven.   I know you are well taken care of baby girl, but I want to see it with my own eyes. 
     Jenni said she was a little jealous that Kyle got to meet you before her. I am sure you two have found each other by now. I wonder what you guys are doing. Whatever it is, I hope that you are happy and that you both know how much I love you. 
     I think I have watched the video of your birth everyday since we have been home. I love listening to your cry. They told us that you would probably never take a breath. That cry meant the world to me. 
     I stare at your pictures constantly to help me remember every detail. I know I'll never forget, but I love to look at your beautiful face. 
     Every night, I snuggle with one of your blankets. I can still smell you and it feels like you are right there with me. I desperately want you to be right here with me.  
     We went to church last night and Deacon Todd had lit a candle on the altar for you. It was beautiful just like you. He told me when I walked up to get ashes and I started to lose it on my way back to my pew. I had to walk out and regain my composure. When I came back, they started playing a song from your funeral and I almost lost it again. I miss you so much Avery. 
   I love you more than anything,
                                Mom

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