a letter to Baby David.
Written April 24, 2015, a little over a month after we lost our first son David Holtan. It’s been in my blog drafts since then. It’s time to share my grief with you.
Dear Baby David.
Some days I'm good. I can go the whole day and feel good. I'm happy to be living this life, although my heart’s broken you aren't living yours here with me. I mean, the rest of it’s is pretty darn good. I've got Dave. And Lena. And the freedom of working for myself, doing something I really do love. So really, I am happy.
But then somedays, it's not enough. It feels too hard.
It's been so weird not to have you here the last year. As I was dusting our bedroom the other day, I picked you up (or at least the only physical evidence I have that you were here with us) and dusted the shelf underneath you. How weird.
It wasn't supposed to be like this. I never imagined it would ever be like this.
But here I am.
And there you are.