Hey little buddy!
Your momma asked me today how I felt about Father’s Day. I really hadn’t thought much about it until that
very moment. I felt like I should say
something meaningful in order to bring meaning to the moment, but I was lost
for meaning. I’ve thought about it more
since then.
Though I am incredibly proud to be your father, you are with a
Father who loves you more than I ever could.
You have left your precious, brief, and poignant impact upon this earth. As much as I love and cherish you, you need
absolutely nothing from me. Your big
sister does not fall into the same category.
Caroline will continue to need me as a father, and I will continue
to need her as a daughter. It’s funny
how much strength we can draw from our children. Bella, when we lost you, your big sister was
a refuge of strength and comfort.
I’ve talked about the night we broke the news of your loss to
her. She hid herself behind a blanket
and insisted that I was teasing. In the
moment, she was so excited to have a little buddy in this world that she wanted
to hide from reality to assuage the disappointment. It has been amazing and beautiful to see how
excited she is to have a little buddy in Heaven.
The day after we lost you, we took Caroline for a ride up Bear
Mountain. It was a beautiful, clear, and
crisp fall day. As we did our best to
explain your physical and spiritual disposition to Caroline, she suddenly lit
up with excitement. “So my sister is an
angel in Heaven?” she asked with delight.
She was so enchanted with the revelation that we had to caution her
about sharing the news with other people.
We didn’t want her to be confused when others reacted with sadness as
she bragged about her little sister in Heaven.
A few weeks ago, we sent some balloons to you. Caroline had drawn you another picture and
wrote you a note. One of her friends saw
her release the balloon and asked Caroline what she was doing. Caroline responded, “I’m sending a letter to
my sister.”
Her friend—in the earnestness of youth—replied, “But you don’t have
a sister. She died.” She truly meant no harm by this statement. She was simply betraying the stalwart honesty
of a young soul who has yet to learn the urge to manipulate truth.
Caroline, finding her own truth in the situation, immediately
replied, “I still have a sister, even if she died. I send notes to her on balloons.” Her friend, fully accepting Caroline’s explanation,
further inquired as to how you get the notes—I suppose that it is a bit
confusing. Caroline—also seeking some
logical explanation—furrowed her brow for a moment and responded, “I don’t know. She just gets them in Heaven.” Your sister’s answer seemed to completely
appease her friend's curiosity.
There are countless other times where Caroline’s optimism and vibrance
have served as a beacon, guiding me back to the demands of today. In the maddening sadness of saying our
goodbyes to you, my precious Bella, your sister has moved onward without losing
a beat. It’s not that she doesn’t love and
miss you; it’s simply that she loves and misses you with the purity and passion
of a child.
On this Father’s Day and every day, I am thankful for my own father. But, I am also thankful for the gift of
fatherhood. Bella, you have given a
tremendous amount of meaning to my life.
Thank you for that! But, I must
thank you sister even more. Without her,
I’m not sure that I would appreciate you half as much. In many ways, you have been a challenge. Your sister has been an inspiration to overcome
obstacles and to move forward with strength, conviction, and hope.
If you could do one thing for me on this Father’s Day, look after
your big sister from Heaven! She would
so much love to have you here with her, but your physical absence has done
nothing to diminish her love for you and the light in her soul. Your sister is an incredibly special young
lady!
Thank you for the privilege, Bella!
I love you so much, my dear baby!
Love,
Dad
