Dear Gabrielle

Gabrielle,

I am so lost.  Our house feels different.  We are without a family member and I am trying my hardest to stay strong.

I wore blue and black today.  That's how I feel.  I am grieving and I think about you non stop.  I see you everywhere in the house.  I haven't been able to change anything and it's as if, time has stood still since you left us June 7th.  I haven't unpacked your suitcase yet from Canuck Place.  I haven't put away the nurses binders or your 'med' station.  I haven't wiped the white board with all the 'to do's' to tend to from the week you passed:  "send Nick your July nursing schedule, contact the At home program etc".  I thought you would be home.  I haven't put away your toys, or your high chair.  I haven't thrown out the little piece of paper towel in the cupboard that the nurses used to put your night time nebulizer on.  We asked the oxygen company to give us more time and to leave all your oxygen tanks here as they are.  I see your stroller that we used to push you around in for walks.  I see your little shoes and coats and dresses hanging in the closet.  I look through your clothes and cry.  You are everywhere and nowhere.

As James said yesterday in between tears and trembling lips, "Mom, I wish we could just see Gabby one more time, even if it's for a second".  And Michael who prays every night to you by saying "Please come back Gabby, I love you".   We light your candles every morning and blow them out when we go to bed.  I still kneel by your crib every night and talk to you.  I have your little glasses, your soother, your outfit that you wore when you passed away, your splints, a beautiful little tuft of your hair that we snipped before we took you to cremation, your heart necklace that we each wore when you passed.  I even turn on your big tank of oxygen by your bed to hear the hissing sound of oxygen flowing.  I turn on your bedside light and wind up your little music stuffy like I used to every night before bed.  I still say good night to you through tears and send a kiss into your crib and into the heavens.

Thank you for visiting me in my dream last night.  It was the first time I've dreamed of you since you left.  You were playing on the floor with your dad.  It was so magical to have you back.  The house was alive again and to hear you talk and see you smile was the best thing a mother could ask for.  To be in the presence of their child again.  I pray that I can continue to feel you Gabrielle.  I miss you terribly. Losing you is the absolute worse and being a mother to you in Heaven is harder then anything I've ever done.

I will love you forever and ever, and ever and ever, and ever and ever and ever.  You will always be my beautiful baby girl.

Mom