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