My darling Sonne --
Your daddy, sister and I are making a point to spend time out and about every weekend. Time out in the sun. A couple of weeks ago we spent the day walking along the boardwalk between Santa Monica and Venice. You would have enjoyed it. The sun was shining, the air crisp, a gentle breeze blowing...
This past weekend your daddy, sister and I were joined by Dan and Teri. We walked up to the NoHo Taco Cook Off. There were a bunch of food trucks and we ate lots of tasty things. Again, the sun was shining...
We also picked up the different pictures of you which were framed for your memorial. We have pictures of you sleeping, with your fist raised, yawning, crying with your sister and smiling. My favorite picture of you was enlarged and framed beautifully and it now hangs over the piano.
Every day we can see you smiling at us. Such a happy face, so full of joy and life.
Sometimes I look at your picture and smile. Sometimes I cry a little. Always I blow you a kiss and whisper "I love you baby girl."
I will love you always....Mommy
Monday, September 26, 2011
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Your Memorial
My dearest Sonne --
We held your memorial this past Saturday at the South Coast Botanic Garden. It was a beautiful, sunny day. The morning threatened rain, but your sunshine broke through the clouds. There was a light breeze as well making the air crisp and fresh.
So many friends helped prepare for the service. Pictures of you were printed and displayed on a table at the entrance to the amphitheater. There was a sign in book with your name embossed on the cover and to this array we added the your photo album and a few of your favorite books.
The Gypsy Kings played as people arrived and once it appeared as though all had taken their seats, we started the celebration of your life. Those we asked to participate did so with great poise. They spoke from their hearts. They spoke with compassion. There were many tears, but also some laughter. Throughout a lone butterfly flitted amongst those gathered. A few of us noticed and couldn't help to think of you coming to witness this event.
Dr. Tim came. I think he is truly baffled that your surgery did not turn out better. I feel a great deal of compassion for him as I know he was looking forward to years of being your cardiologist. Dr. Jeremy had wanted to attend but a family commitment kept him away. And, of course, many of your favorites from the NICU were there: Mama Flo, Sharlyn, Michelle, Dawn and Joan. Joan who cared for you from the moment you were born. And also Jen who cared for me just after you were born when we learned about your heart conditions.
So many colleagues of your dad's were there, as well as mine. Almost my entire department made it out to celebrate you. Only a wedding kept one away. And Dani who so adored spending time with you was there with her husband.
And of course, Oma and Opa were there. Oma shed a lot of tears. She misses you dearly.
There are so many more I should mention, but I know some names are escaping me as I write this. All in all I think close to seventy people came out to celebrate you -- most of whom had yet to meet you in person but had come to know you through the pictures and postings of your father and myself.
I think my favorite moment came at the very end. "Amazing" by One eskimO was played and while your dad and I held Morgen and sang and danced ever so slightly with one another, eventually everyone got up and joined us. It started with your Auntie O and Uncle Matthew and moved through the gathering in a wave. Dancing and clapping and tears of sorrow and joy. As the lyrics say, "It's in the stars, it's in the sun. It's everywhere and everyone and it will be everyday. From now on, from now on we are one. And it's amazing."
Perfection.
I made it through the day fairly well. I read "Olivia" to you during the service and didn't break down. While others cried, I consoled them. I was okay on Saturday.
Afterwards many of us met up at a brewery to laugh and cry some more. It was a healing, albeit exhausting day. And you were there with us.
Sunday, however, was filled with tears. So many tears. I know people say it gets easier with time, but I don't think that's correct -- it gets different with time. One day we will think of you and simply be filled with the pure joy of knowing you, as opposed to the pain of losing you so soon. One day we will look at your red puppy and laugh, as opposed to our eyes brimming with tears. One day things will simply be different because enough time will have passed and we will have healed from this shock.
Until then we will do our best to carry on.
Love...Mommy
We held your memorial this past Saturday at the South Coast Botanic Garden. It was a beautiful, sunny day. The morning threatened rain, but your sunshine broke through the clouds. There was a light breeze as well making the air crisp and fresh.
So many friends helped prepare for the service. Pictures of you were printed and displayed on a table at the entrance to the amphitheater. There was a sign in book with your name embossed on the cover and to this array we added the your photo album and a few of your favorite books.
The Gypsy Kings played as people arrived and once it appeared as though all had taken their seats, we started the celebration of your life. Those we asked to participate did so with great poise. They spoke from their hearts. They spoke with compassion. There were many tears, but also some laughter. Throughout a lone butterfly flitted amongst those gathered. A few of us noticed and couldn't help to think of you coming to witness this event.
Dr. Tim came. I think he is truly baffled that your surgery did not turn out better. I feel a great deal of compassion for him as I know he was looking forward to years of being your cardiologist. Dr. Jeremy had wanted to attend but a family commitment kept him away. And, of course, many of your favorites from the NICU were there: Mama Flo, Sharlyn, Michelle, Dawn and Joan. Joan who cared for you from the moment you were born. And also Jen who cared for me just after you were born when we learned about your heart conditions.
So many colleagues of your dad's were there, as well as mine. Almost my entire department made it out to celebrate you. Only a wedding kept one away. And Dani who so adored spending time with you was there with her husband.
And of course, Oma and Opa were there. Oma shed a lot of tears. She misses you dearly.
There are so many more I should mention, but I know some names are escaping me as I write this. All in all I think close to seventy people came out to celebrate you -- most of whom had yet to meet you in person but had come to know you through the pictures and postings of your father and myself.
I think my favorite moment came at the very end. "Amazing" by One eskimO was played and while your dad and I held Morgen and sang and danced ever so slightly with one another, eventually everyone got up and joined us. It started with your Auntie O and Uncle Matthew and moved through the gathering in a wave. Dancing and clapping and tears of sorrow and joy. As the lyrics say, "It's in the stars, it's in the sun. It's everywhere and everyone and it will be everyday. From now on, from now on we are one. And it's amazing."
Perfection.
I made it through the day fairly well. I read "Olivia" to you during the service and didn't break down. While others cried, I consoled them. I was okay on Saturday.
Afterwards many of us met up at a brewery to laugh and cry some more. It was a healing, albeit exhausting day. And you were there with us.
Sunday, however, was filled with tears. So many tears. I know people say it gets easier with time, but I don't think that's correct -- it gets different with time. One day we will think of you and simply be filled with the pure joy of knowing you, as opposed to the pain of losing you so soon. One day we will look at your red puppy and laugh, as opposed to our eyes brimming with tears. One day things will simply be different because enough time will have passed and we will have healed from this shock.
Until then we will do our best to carry on.
Love...Mommy
Saturday, September 3, 2011
meine Sonne
My darling Sonne --
The sun has been shining down upon us every day since you passed. We could not be more grateful and yet we long to hold you one more time. To see you smile at us. To watch you sleep.
The nights are the most difficult for me.
I wake to feed and change your sister. It's a simple routine I've done for months, but it's different now. You are missing. I would love to play the baby trade game with your father so he could change one diaper while I nurse one baby or to surround myself with pillows in order to nurse you and Morgen at the same time.
And while there is joy in caring for your sister, there is sorrow. I would give up almost anything to have you on my breast again. I so loved to watch you nurse. You were always so alert; watching me with your eyes shining.
We are distraught. We are angry. We are confused. At times we are numb. Mostly we are sad. It isn't fair that you should be gone so soon. You barely got to experience life and so much of the time you were with us was spent in the hospital. We know in our hearts that we did everything we could to make you happy and healthy. We know that the doctors and nurses who cared for you did the same. It doesn't stop us from wondering what else we could have done. Had we done anything differently would you still be with us today?
We know the answer to that question is no. There is no reason why you are gone. Nothing else could be done to save you, but I imagine your father and I will ask that question of ourselves every day for the rest of our lives.
We love you so much. You are our sunshine. You are our baby girl. Our little little. Our sweet pea. Our button. Our Sonne.
We will keep you in our hearts always.
Love...Mommy.
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