Dear Alma,

February 2017

Hey bud, can you believe it's been four years (tomorrow)? Four years since I first saw you and held you in my arms. I didn't ever want to let you go, but of course, Dad had to have his turn too. :) We switched back and forth all day long until we had to let you go and leave the hospital with empty arms.

It seems like every time I sit down in front of this screen, words leave me. Lately it's been overwhelming to write to an audience. I think that's why I'm finally writing to you. It feels less overwhelming when all I need to do is talk to you.

This month has been so, so hard. So unbelievably difficult. I thought that after four years your birthday, and the days leading up to it, would get easier. They have been a little easier in the past, but this year. Oh, Alma, this year has been one of the hardest yet.

My arms aren't empty like they were four years ago, but they still feel heavy. When I hold on tightly to your two brothers, something is still lacking...I miss clinging to my invisible four-year-old. You should be playing on the couch, wrestling, laughing, running around, and teasing your brothers too. You and Aidan should be teaching Kimball how to hold a book and laughing at jokes only you three understand.

There is so much I want to say, yet I've felt inadequate to express my kaleidoscope of emotions. Sad you aren't here. Devastated at the outcome. Hope in the future. Joy in the moments I feel you close by. Imagining what it would be like if you were here.

Looking back at the past four years, I know I'm stronger, but I also know it's okay to not be okay. It's okay to miss you because you're real and you are my child. It's okay to cry and mourn and wish you were here for,

"The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain."

Kahlil Gabran

It's okay to want to see you again and feel the weight of you in my arms and just...be with you.

But I also know it's okay to be happy. It's okay to love on your brothers even when you're not here. It's okay to be excited about the life I'm living right here right now. It's okay to find joy in this journey...now. To cherish each moment.

I know I won't ever get over losing you, and that's okay, too. Oddly enough, it's grief that keeps you close. I used to think it was there for just a day or a week or a month or however long it took for someone to "get over" their loved ones dying, but it's for life. And hard as it is, I'm grateful I'll never get over you.

I totally relate to what Elder Shayne M. Bowen (who lost his 8-month old baby boy) said:

"Sometimes people will ask, 'How long did it take for you to get over it?' The truth is, you will never completely get over it until you are together once again with your departed loved ones. I will never have a fulness of joy until we are reunited in the morning of the First Resurrection."

I also love his beautiful testimony that has brought me so much precious peace these past few days:

"Remember as you attended the funeral of your loved one the feelings in your heart as you drove away from the cemetery and looked back to see that solitary casket - wondering if your heart would break.

I testify that because of Him, even our Savior, Jesus Christ, those feelings of sorrow, loneliness, and despair will one day be swallowed up in a fulness of joy. I testify that we can depend on Him and when He said:

'I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you. 

'Yet a little while, and the world seeth me no more; but ye see me: because I live, ye shall live also.'

(John 14:18-19)

I'm so grateful for Jesus Christ. He is what's made this past month possible to get through, and I know He will help me get through tomorrow too. Even though tears haven't been far away day after day since August 1, there has also been peace. There have been times when our Savior has helped me know that it's okay that it's hard and has cried with me. And times when He has stilled my soul and given me the sweet comfort only He can give.

I love you so, so, so much. Maybe it hurts so much this year because my love for you keeps growing. I hope you get a great big party in heaven for your big day. We'll be throwing our own small one here.

Love,

Mom