Second of Everything

Dear Eve,

A show your daddy and I like to watch now has a character named Eve. Another  show we also watch regularly has a character named Genevieve. I'm guessing your name is starting to become popular. I get this weird twinge when I hear it. It's in the depth of my stomach and I long to be able to call to you and you respond. 

How's my sweet Eve Believe?!

Come here, Genevieve. 

Thank you, Genevieve. 

Please sneeze in your elbow, Eve. 

All the normal nuances that people say to one another or the things I say to my students that I'm sure would have spilled over into motherhood, I won't get to say them to you. I won't get to call out your name and you respond. 

On these shows, when I hear your name said as if it's no big thing, I get jealous. No. You can't use that name. That's my baby's name. She's dead and her name was picked perfect for her. So no your character can't be called that. And of course they can't hear my thoughts screaming through the television screen. But if they could, they'd get an earful. 

This past year went by and I missed everything. I know I've written it all before, but for some reason I'm still shocked by this. I am going through the second of everything. Valentine's Day is coming up soon and it'll be my second one without you. Then, St. Patrick's Day (not that you would be old enough to even enjoy it) and then the summer turns to fall and the holiday season picks back up with your birthday being in the middle. And then, before I know it, the second year has gone by and I missed that too. It sometimes feels like perpetual torture because there's not a damn thing I can do about it. 

I always feel that when I get to the end of my posts I should have some concluding thought that ties everything up into a bow and summarizes the entry. But then I think about how life isn't like that. Life doesn't come tied up in a bow. Life can be hard and ugly. It can be blood and tears. It can be beautifully tragic. So instead of ending on some life evolving epiphany, I end with this: no matter what I go through, whether it be the first or second or tenth of something, I will always love you and I will always miss you. 

Love,

Mommy