” We understand death for the first time when he
 puts his hand upon one whom we love”. 
~Madame de Stael

 Dear Jack,

 It’s been 10 months since you died and every day since then, I have dedicated my
 life to keeping your memory alive. I have tried to focus on healing and on mending
 what was left of my heart. With each milestone that has come, I have tried to plan
 for it, to be ready for the pain and discomfort that it brought. Your due date,
 Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, my birthday….. all of them I have had a plan
 for dealing with my life without the physical you in it. And now, 10 months later, I just keep returning to the same question and I keep getting the same answer. Why? Why did you have to die? What card did you draw that made it so that you were one of the sadly, many babies who don’t make it home each year? What did we do in our lives that we deserved to have our first baby taken from us? We work hard, we pay our bills, we don’t steal or cheat or lie. We don’t drink or do drugs and we give to charities. For all intents and purposes, we are good people. So why, why did you have to die?

As I ask that question, I can hear the answer, that same generic answer replaying in my mind. Bad things happen to good people all of the time. There is no reason for it, it just happens. But that answer isn’t enough for me anymore. For awhile, it worked to appease my anger and sadness. It got me by…but not anymore. I want real answers. I want to know WHY.

Was it because of my body and its issues alone? Was it purely physical? Or was it something else? I just don’t know. I would pay anything to know but I know that no answer would ever be good enough. Nothing can justify taking the life of a child. There is no good reason for that to happen.

And so I am left, thinking of you, trying my very best to remember the happiness you brought us while you were still alive. Even though my heart is still full of the grief that was left when we had to say goodbye. I miss you. I wish I was watching you sleep in your crib and hearing you cry out for us every night. I wish we were helping you crawl and feeding you new things to see how you liked them. My wishes for you could fill the ocean a million times I think.

I love you and my arms ache to hold you. Please know that you are remembered and we are planning something special for you for your first birthday. I promise we will always celebrate that day. And I also promise that your little brother will know all about you and how you helped him come home to us.

I am glad I wrote to you today. It was a very hard day. Thank you for always being there for me.

Love Always,

Mom

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