This morning you told me you were going to be a rocket man. Yesterday it was a fire man. The day before that it was someone who helps people. You are never asked the question "what do you want to be when you grow up?" You just tell me... out of the clear blue... never expecting it and it always never ceases to surprise me. In a few short months you will be turning three years old and I can't believe how time has passed, but more than that I can't believe how amazing and SMART you are only have lived on this earth three years. So much has changed with you, me, and our family it's hard to remember what it used to be like. It makes me wonder what will the next three years have in store. Where will you be in age, maturity, and character. What about you will stay the same as it always has and what will blossom and develop into something greater, something different. How will I change as a mother, a wife, and a person? This has been my most challenging year to date. Losing your brother this year was hard, but now even harder is the fact that you can grasp the concept of what a brother is and how do I explain to you the brother you had and lost. You know what death is, but you don't know why or what happens after it. And for a family that doesn't believe in a heaven that concept is extremely hard to explain.
You said to me last night what my necklace said. And I said to you, Maximus Hero Garrett. You then said to me, my brother. It cut like a knife so deep, even deeper than I imagined. My heart is broken as I think about what this year could have been like for you because of how badly you want a brother or sibling and how you could have that had he survived. After you said he was your brother you proceed to tell me that he died and when I confirmed it you looked confused, like died was a location and you wanted to know where he went. Then you told me fireman Sam (a cartoon you are inlove with) would save him and I said Maybe? And then you hugged me.
I wonder sometimes what goes on in your head. What you thought as the whole pregnancy played out and we came home sad. I wonder how subconsciously it has affected you if any at all. We choose to keep you mostly in the dark because we figured you wouldn't be able to understand, but almost a year later I can see now that... tell you or not, you knew something wasn't right. How crazy for us to put it past you. You being this sponge of knowledge, why wouldn't you pick up on it. You're the most empathic two year old I have met. I know it sounds so bizarre, but you care more than some grown adults and you share a passion as if, even though your two, you understand the most purest of emotions that we feel. I fear that if another pregnancy happens you will feel the same way towards it as you did towards my pregnancy with Max. You will fear for me and be sad and worry.
I just want you to know later if you ever read this that you saved my life this year. You saved it a ways you will never know or understand. You pulled me from darkness and every day showed me a bright light of joy and happiness. You make me proud everyday as you say please and thank you or when we leave a store you tell them "I'll be back again soon." Not just for those reasons am I proud of you. I proud of you because of the gentle senstivity you show towards me, dad, and everyone.
Tommorrow you may want to be a runner or conductor when you grow up.
I may not know what you will be professionally when you grow up, but what I do know is a heart like yours and a brain like yours you will move mountains and effect those around everyday as you already do Atticus.
I LOVE YOU
MOM
2/25/14
