You may not believe it, but that was Tessa answering my prayer of desperation.
I pleaded with her to breathe and make her little heart beat again when I felt her body laying there.
Even if it was just my imagination, it is still true for me.
And it comforts me so much to have heard her say it.
I loved her so so much!
I don’t know if I can or should write this.
If I continue, I’ll have to write between starts and stops of very wet eyes.
If nothing else, it may help me, to maybe understand — why, for whatever reasons, it was that she was snatched away from us at such a wonderful, beautiful, healthy, loving time of her life.
The memories — so soon after — are painful, though they do contain so much joy of so many good times.
I think the most difficult memories are of her eyes — how she’d cock her head and look up at me, wanting ever-so-much to know what I meant. Or how to let me know what she wanted.
I’ve been saying ‘I’ and ‘me’ because this is my blog.
But everywhere I say ‘I’ or ‘me’ I should say ‘our’ or ‘us’ — for my wife, Joy, is as much present in every one of them as I write.
Everything I do reminds me of Tessa. Like parking in the driveway, opening the door and telling Tessa, “Go to the house. Go to mom.” She’d go to the edges of the lilac bush and wait for me. She’d wait because she always wanted to be with both of us.
On our hikes she’d come with me as I would go off into the woods to relieve myself. She’d stop to see if Joy was coming. She’d go back to Joy, then to me, back and forth, to see when we’d all get together again.
Joy says, and I believe it is true, that, “Tessa was sent to us by God. She had her assignement and she did it beautifully.”
There are just too many “coincidences” that make the prosaic “odds” against it seem silly.
Joy also said, “It had to be good for her to have been with us for it to hurt this bad!”
I am sure that you have gone through similar experiences and know what I mean.
If you haven’t I feel sorry for you.
Thanks so much for all your thoughts and prayers.