Dear Maddie,

Time is playing tricks on your daddy and me. You left us two months ago. Sometimes it feels like you were just here. I’ll go in your room, and I can still smell you, hear your laughter. Your toys are still in your room, in your crib where you liked them. I still expect to wake up and see your face peering over at me. I still look forward to you saying, “HI!” to me every morning.

Then there are other times. Times when it feels like every day is a month long. When I don’t know how I will make it through another SECOND, let alone minute, hour, day, week, month, year, life, without you. That I can’t believe it’s only been two months, it seems more like two decades. The days drag by, but there is no escape. Night time isn’t better because I can’t snuggle you. Sleeping isn’t better because I don’t see you. Nothing is better.

I still talk to you all the time. Sometimes aloud, sometimes just in my head.

Every morning I stand in front of your urn, and I tell you how much I miss you and love you. I tell you what I think you’d be doing if you were here. I know you’d be running around our house. Not walking – running. I imagine how long your hair would be by now. It was SO CLOSE to being long enough for a single ponytail on the back of your head. I think it would be long enough now, two months later. I know you’d be saying more words, you already had so many. Maybe now you’d say “mama.”

Every night I stand in front of your urn, and I tell you how much I miss you and love you. I tell you how unfair it is that you aren’t here. I tell you I would trade places with you in a millisecond, that I would do anything to give you back the world. I tell you about my day, who I saw and spoke to. Sometimes I see some of your friends. I tell you about Rigby, and how she still hides under your crib and barks too much. I ask you every night to come see me in my dreams.

I am always looking for guidance from you, Maddie. Things are so scary without you. I always want to know what your reaction would be to something. I want to share things with you, and see your smile. I worry about what you’d think of things. I long for you.

I don’t know how we will get through this, Maddie. Things are changing and I am clinging to you. I am hoping you will be there, and I am realizing that you never, ever will be, and it hurts more and more every day.

Maddie, we love you and miss you in a way that is consuming. I want you to know how much we think about you, and long for you, and love you. You are always on our minds. We still do everything for you.

Baby Moo, I don’t really know how to end this letter other than to say again how much I love you. Maybe tonight will be the night you visit me in my dreams. I really, really hope so.

I’ll love you for the rest of time.

Mommy

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