Category: Jaime

It’s Mom again. I’m missing you, again, always. There are so many activities that we did together. And I find it impossible to most of them without you. I can’t recapture the joy that I had when I could share activities with you. Taking Pepper for a walk is even hard to do. But I know that he loves his time outside. So, every once in a while, I pop him in his stroller, and we take a walk to the dog park. More often, we go out back and he lounges on the patio or wanders around looking for good places to hide his greenies.

He’s such a little pumpkin. I know he’s not fond of his insulin shots, but he holds very still until I’ve finished. Then he waits for his reward of cheese. Sometimes he has to remind me he needs a shot (I think it is because his internal clock is telling him it’s cheese time.) But, maybe, he’s asking for his insulin. Right? He’s funny about meals, he seems to ask for food then he’ll leave it out until he’s ready to eat it. Sometimes, I have to throw it out because it has dried out completely. I think it’s his way of telling me that he is in charge. He’ll do what he wants when he’s ready – not when I’m ready.

I’ve been doing my main activities of listening to books (on Alexa) and working on stained glass. I’m soldering my Hairy Coo and Calf, a picture I took when we were in Scotland. I finished side one today and figured the second side would be awful – but I was pleasantly surprised to find that, the back side looks good. I took more time looking at all the different parts of the piece, and decided that I needed to make some modifications. I had many pieces that had multiple joints, and both pieces have to match almost exactly. Unfortunately, they didn’t match. So, I had to revise the pattern, and make it less complex. Otherwise, I would have had really awful intersections.

Tomorrow, I have a dentist appointment and a couple of hours of volunteer time at the library. Other than that, I’ll be able to work on my glass piece and spend time with Peppy while I listen to a fantasy book. Those seem to be my favorites – I’m looking for escapism.

I think I’m going to see if they can get someone else to video tape the book discussions. They are all depressing stories. I have no idea why the books chosen are about bitter people or horrendous times in history. They actually chose two science fiction books – 1984 by Orwell another dystopian story about big brother and who knows what else. Yuck. Give me a book with magic or humor any day of the week. Just – no more “literature” with unsympathetic characters with strange plots and sad endings.

I miss talking with you, walking with you, crafting, being with you and hugging you good night. I look forward to the day when we can be together again or failing that when I don’t have to know that you are gone.

Goodnight my sweet girl. I love you so very much.

Mom

Hi Jaime. We got a letter from CORE – the Center for Organ Recovery and Education. Since you donated your body to others who needed organ transplants, they asked us if we would be willing to include your picture and a small amount of information on the Giving Life Wall. I know that you would be happier if Highmark were the sponsor for organ recovery in Pittsburgh, but UPMC is in charge of all organ donations. We sent in a beautiful picture of you. The wall is located on the pedestrian bridge between UPMC Presby and Montefiore Hospitals. Although your Dad and I will probably not see the wall, it is only right that your compassion and generosity be recognized there along with others who have helped extend and improve the lives of others.

We are also trying to honor your memory in some additional way. I’ve been struggling with how best to do that. I would like to share the results of your doctoral thesis with employers, in the hope that the information contained in it would be a positive force in corporate practices for improving the initial working experiences of individuals with disabilities. I’m just not quite sure how to best proceed with this. I could certainly use your help with this. I know that you would have some wonderful ideas as well as best practices and possible cautions.

I miss your council, your wisdom, and I miss the serious discussions we had as well as the joy we shared even in the routine of each day. I miss you my wonderful daughter. I miss your laughter and your love.

Mom

Hi Jaime,

I thought I’d tell you about an organization that is helping me deal with your loss a little bit better than I was. It is made up of parents who have lost their only child or all their children.

When I found their website, it helped me realize that the magnitude of the grief and loss I’ve experienced is not unique. I still find it hard to talk about you because I almost always end in tears. I think I always will.

Initially, I felt that joining a group of people who had a similar loss in their lives would be too hard. But, when I read some of the posts on their Facebook site and in their newsletters, it helped me realize that though my grief for losing you is unique, I am not alone in having to face such a loss.

You were so much a part of my life. I loved spending time with you – sharing so much of your life. Now – I just try to find ways to carry on. People I thought would understand that this kind of loss is never gone – don’t understand. There is an expectation that you need to move forward, get on with life. But, all I want to do is look back. No – I don’t want to look back – I want to be back, with you, with joy, with sadness, with whatever we experienced when we did it together.

I may be more of a mess than some of these people, but at least I know that they can understand that there is no greater loss. Although we try to find ways to cope – our lives are forever changed. Three years or thirty – that loss will always be a part of us. And those who haven’t experienced it can’t even begin to understand this part of our journey.

I love you. I miss you. I need you. —Mom