Jan. 23, 2015

Some days, my child, the grief of losing you simply is too much. I grieve my 25-year-old Jessica, the beautiful, gracious woman with quick wit, an amazing mind, a generous spirit, open arms, and unending love, not to mention a snortty laugh.

I miss my 22-year-old Jess, so confused and broken, so angry, stubborn, and yet needy, though a very hard person for this mother to be around, I could do nothing right. But no matter. You know and knew, I hope, that I’ve always loved you even when I didn’t liked the things you were doing.

I miss my wonderfully curious and adventurous teenager, even though as all teenagers do, the older you got the less you wanted or needed me around. You tasted freedom and wanted to soar. All the secrets a teenager keeps close to her heart…But look out world. Jessica was ready to take over. We never knew how much you were suffering for loving and losing, for trusting people who were never worth your loyalty.

And then the child who could never be mean to her mommy (your words, not mine). The fabulous soccer player, horse rider, hiker, pottery painter, Irish dancer…The girl who needed to try everything though seldom stuck to anything (except soccer, of course). Nonetheless, you broadened your spirit, mind, and knowledge of all things possible. Always seeking something new. You smiled so much, but cried just as easily when your gentle heart was broken. And yes, you could talk the ear off a deaf man. The gorgeous photo of you dressed up for First Communion, looking at the camera with such innocence and excitement sits on your altar. My girl.
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And then I grieve so overwhelmingly my little Jessie Bear. The bright star child that everyone adored even with your endless chatter, your need to communicate with the world. You were born with so many questions and even more answers. I’ll never forget how the preschool rules were bent when you were allowed to join at 2 1/2, so eager and excited to play with all the children, do art projects, and sit in circle singing your tiny heart out. Such a very good girl.

But Jess, just as much do I miss my tiny baby cuddling in my arms, always staring deeply into my eyes, grasping my finger, hair or jewelry, falling asleep so peacefully with no cares or fears. And even further, my unseen, unborn soul-child whom I know I’ve loved far before conception. So close to my beating heart, so entirely a part of me.

So, my girl, you see I grieve and love not just the woman you became and the woman you were yet to become, but the many hundreds, thousands of you who are the stars of all my Jessica dreams and memories. Pablo told me when he learned he had cancer that he didn’t mind dying but he just couldn’t live with the pain. There is no morphine to release me from the despair of losing you, nor from the fear for the safety and health of your precious sister Sarah. No one warns you early in life that the price of unending love is often agony. I have yet to learn how to build a life around my mutilated heart. I need your light to show me the way.

Today would have been by beautiful daughter, Jessie’s, 26th birthday, but Jess will remain forever frozen in time as my beloved 25-year-old child. I feel that I haven’t only lost my grown daughter, but my infant child, bouncy toddler, little girl, tweenie, and teenager. I’ve lost my future proud graduate, beautiful bride, son-in-law, grandchildren, and a matured daughter who is serene in her unconditional self-love and has achieved so many of her dreams. We have lost so much, though we were blessed to be with you for 25 years and still have our precious Sarah.
Jessie was a gloriously happy, cuddly infant and toddler, Demanding, yes. But sweet as honey. I clearly remember both of my girls as babies. Sarah always wanted to be head-up, independent, checking out the world, while Jess just wanted to snuggle.

I was always afraid I couldn’t love unconditionally until I had my babies. From that time on, I knew that no matter what they did at any time in their lives, I would love them, not because I was all-forgiving, but because they were and are a part of me, separate, yes, but bound by heart and blood. Now, I have to survive without the living connection to Jess. Sarah and my husband, Chris, keep me bound to this earth, but my heart wants to soar off in search of my little girl. Happy Birthday, my darling.
The medicine is so very effective that it is widely available as ‘Pfizer buy cialis ‘ at any authorised medical pharmacy. Best of all, perhaps, is that you can change healthy lifestyle, for example losing weight, executing smoking; lowering alcohol consumption, avoiding intake of illegal drugs and performing more exercise can all help for preventing the viagra discount condition. You will never even feel any fatigue even when it comes to drug and alcohol tests for sildenafil from canada the license. cialis pill online By using a legitimate and licensed online pharmacy, such as Epillsrx.com. Mom will always love you, Jessie Bear.

Six months tomorrow, little bear. I still do not, cannot, will not believe you are gone. I know in my soul that you’re right next to me. That’s where I feel you. You are eternal. I am temporal in this form. But I will find you. As the song goes, if it takes a million years, I will find you.

I can’t help but wonder where you would be now. Would you have begun to master Photo Shop and started making good money working with Isaac? I know you were saving to go to Ireland this summer and would be getting excited about that. Would you still be working at Yard House? Whatever, wherever, I know there would have been change and excitement in your life. That’s just who you were, and you were in a good place with people who adored you and appreciated you for the beautiful soul you are.
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EVERYONE misses you. You inspired so many who have learned to go for the gusto and be all they can. Me, I do my best to make it through each day without you a phone call away. But sure, you were not the best communicator, so I can pretend you’re just being negligent getting back to me. I’m always here, my love, just a phone call away. Love you, love you, love you, Mom.

Baby girl, today marks five months since you left us, a very hard day. I still can’t believe or accept that you are gone. Sent in your final tax forms today…so sad you won’t ever pay taxes again. I bet no one has ever said that. But for all the folks bemoaning owing money for unpaid tax, imagine never again paying taxes or going for a walk or having a meal with your family, never marrying, never having children or grandchildren, or buying a house, or having your dreams come true. Imagine signing your daughter’s last tax form because she is no longer here to do it. And say a quiet thank you that your biggest complaint right now is writing a check to the government. I would trade places with you in a blink to have my Jessie Bear back. You have my heart, dear Jess.

Love, Mom
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My dearest baby Jessie Bear,

I can’t believe, cannot accept that you have left me. You were supposed to live forever, my love. You had so many dreams, so many gifts, so much beauty. Baby, I don’t even know what happened to you at the end. This pain of knowing that I won’t see you again in this life is far too great to carry. From way before you were born, before Sarah was born, all that I wanted from life were my babies. I am not the modern feminist I appear to be, I guess, not when my only real dream (other than swimming with dolphins and seeing the invisible world, crazy mom that I am) was to get pregnant, give birth, nurse my babies, and watch them grow into strong women. I originally wanted 14 children (hah, hah), but life didn’t work out that way. But before ever your sister or you were born I was wracked by the fear that one or both of you would be taken from me. I’m not talking about a casual fear like of cockroaches (right, Sarah), or an out-of-date quart of milk in the fridge. My fear was the lie-awake-at-night-and-beg-the-gods kind of fear: “Please, please don’t take my babies! Take me, take parts of me, all of me, leave me blind and paralyzed, but please don’t take my babies.” These begging sessions would be followed by the threats: “If you take my babies, I will HATE you forever! I will never worship you again…” It was only when a psychic friend of mine told me that she saw my girls both outliving me that I finally started relaxing and trusting that you both would be OK. Looking back, I don’t know if I should ask for a refund or thank her for the few years of peace she gave me.

So now you have left your body, and what a beautiful body it is. But your spirit, your mind, your wonderful, beautiful soul is what I want back, Baby Girl. You and I struggled at times when you were an older teen and even more recently. Much of our struggles were because we were so very much alike. I used to apologize to you for that likeness knowing that being as deeply emotional as I am, as deeply feeling, you were going to experience a significant amount of pain in your life, pain which I wanted desperately to prevent. So while wanting to give you your freedom, as you deserved, I also wanted you to heed my words and experiences so I could protect you from the pain that was sure to come. But I wasn’t able to protect you, my bright girl, was I?

I was so blessed to give birth to you, to nurse you and cuddle you, holding you so close to my heart. You were a cuddler, which was lovely, but you were also fiercely independent and demanding at times. Dad insisted I wean you when you took to screaming your demand for “MUCK,” known to the rest of us as milk, anytime you wanted it no matter where we were. If not immediately offered to you, you would proceed to scream as if we had denied you Santa Claus at Christmas. I was nearly thrown out of Emigh’s Hardware one day during one such tantrum.
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As a child you were both terribly sensitive and a bit of a whiner, but you were game for so many things. Like me, you loved all animals. Unlike me, you adored sports. You loved to play games, read, do art, help cook and bake, sew and be with all your friends in Cohousing where you lived till you were about 12. You were always a sweet, loving child. Your very eyes when they looked at me glistened with love, and you’d do anything with me that I asked…hiking, sightseeing, those things parents love to do with children and teenagers. Later you shared with me that when you were about 12 you saw your sister sassing me, being generally an adversarial teenager, and you told me: “I thought, ‘I could never be mean to Mommy, I love her too much.’ But later, I was as bad if not worse than Sarah!” That was a hard change to deal with.

We certainly had a few hard years between 20 and 24. You’d swing from loving and kind to demanding and painfully blame-filled. Throughout all of this, I loved you, Baby, always. It broke my heart, I cried a river of tears, it wrenched my soul, and I wracked my brain trying to figure out how to heal the distance between us, but could find no solution, and so I was left to release the situation and hope, in time, things would resolve between us. They did, I believe, when you moved to L.A. Finally, away from Sacramento influences and with a whole new world opening to you, you began to blossom in happiness and a growing self-assurance as you spread your wings in your own new world. I’m so very grateful you had that time and that you were surrounded by beautiful people like Beck, Isaac, and Erik, and so many other friends who were drawn to your bright light.

Now your bright light is gone from my life. If I didn’t have Sarah, Chris, and others who love and need me, I would follow you into the dark, my Love. I would never let go of your hand until you were comforted by angels and were ready to take off and fly into another adventure. I will ALWAYS be your mommy. You will always be my heart. I already feel you with me at times, your arms wrapped around me, saying, “I’m so sorry, Mommy, for leaving…” But I will miss your brightness, your love, your light every day until we meet again, and I wrap you in my arms. Go to the light, my beautiful sweet, Jessie Bear!