I was at the park with my own little ones when I got the call from her mother. She told me there was nothing more anyone could do and they were going home to say goodbye to their precious Tuesday. It all gets fuzzy from there. I remember heaving sobs, trying to get out words of comfort, and just only being able to say “I’m sorry” over and over. The fight was over. A few short days later, Tuesday would go home to God. That next week I was a robot. Making phone calls and arranging travel plans with women who all had babies the same age as Tuesday. I was going to say goodbye to one of my best friend's babies. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right.
Tuesday changed my life. She helped me truly see God in a way I never knew possible. She helped me grow closer to friends who are now like my sisters. She helped me love my own children more than I ever knew I could. She helped me realize I need to help raise awareness for all the little babies who die of this horrible disease.
Lately, I have been paralyzed. I know of another child who just went home to God after fighting this disease. Her story was so similar to Tuesday. It was too close to home. I have tried to hide from all of this but God keeps shoving it in my face. Now I pray for strength to do something more. Strength to attack this monster head on and make a difference.
I am still mourning sweet Tuesday. I suppose I am in denial. Denial that this could really happen. Denial that it happens every day. I want to get out of denial but damnit it’s so much easier to stay here. So now I turn to God and ask him for strength to move forward.
My mourning is nothing compared to what her family must feel. I won’t even try to imagine what it must be like. I think of them daily, constantly, every time I glance down at that yellow bracelet on my wrist. They are doing an amazing job at moving on but I know every day must be a struggle of epic proportions.
Please remember Tuesday. Remember her light. Her courage. Her strength. Her gift. She was an angel on earth and now she is an angel at home in heaven. I know we will see her again. I know her family will once again be whole. But until then, I mourn.
I love you Tuesday.