I haven't written for awhile. I sort of wait until I am "moved" to write. I remembered two other significant (to me) things that occurred shortly after my son died. My daughter was only three when her big brother died. She was aware that Jimmy was gone, and had some very quiet moments. He had been the cutest, most protective big brother. He would walk her up and down the sidewalk, or sit outside on a bench in the yard and watch her as she played in her new pool. He loved to "rescue" her when she'd been put to bed....she just had to call out Jee Jee (her way of saying Jimmy) and he would pick her up out of her crib. He would lay his big frame across the floor, lay on his tummy to get to her level, and play with her in her room. The day after he died I was sitting on the floor of her room, in a state of shock, while she played with her toys. She suddenly said: "Mom, are you sad." I looked up at her and saw that she was still looking down at her toys as she asked me this quiet question. I said "Yes". She asked: "Is it because Jimmy died?" I said yes again, and this is when she looked up, looked me right in the eye, and said with the maturity and authority of a grown up, "You need to be happy like Jimmy." "Is Jimmy happy?" I asked; and she said "Yes!" It was an singular moment. I knew that she KNEW. A couple of weeks later I was sitting on the Stairs in our house sobbing rather loudly. I heard a little voice from around the corner but couldn't hear the words. Brianna was playing under the dining room table, and had tried to tell me something. I said: "What, what did you say?" She said: "Mom, don't cry; Jimmy is here, and he's helping us." She was able to see, understand and hear what I couldn't.

Our deceased loved ones are very much with us, they know what we are going through, and they are helping us.