Monday, May 26, 2014


First I just want to say that I suck at replying back to comments on here, but know that I read and appreciate them all even if I don't reply. It can be really hard to find the right words to say. I can write endlessly about my loss and my feelings, but when it comes to thanking people for their words and condolences I am at a loss. Thank you for reading along and for all the kind words. 

Today is memorial day. Not that I need a reason to remember or visit my daughter's grave, but we will be going to sit with her later on today. Oh how I wish today was just a day I could use as an excuse to have a barbecue with family. Blahhh.

I am feeling so empty lately. Just empty. Nothing excites me. I just don't feel anything, until the despair creeps in. Then all I feel is pain and sorrow and empty sadness. Always the emptiness. Nothing can ever fix this. Nothing can ever mend my heart. Nothing will ever change this. Aside from my own death. It's an overwhelming and profoundly empty feeling. I can't imagine that this emptiness will ever fill in. Sure, maybe it won't be so profound one day. I have heard as time goes on the pain gets less raw, you learn to live with the hole, but it's always there. Always wanting to creep in and take over. I know even though we lost Violet, we are still very lucky. I have an amazing family. Amazing friends. I have Rich. I have Lyvi. We are buying our dream home. We can put food on our table and a roof over our heads. We have clean drinking water, access to medical care. Education. We are truly lucky when compared to the dire circumstances in other parts of the world. I know that. But, it doesn't make my heart hurt any less. It doesn't fill in the emptiness in my soul. It doesn't make me any less angry.

Oh the anger. Sometimes it scares me. I have never felt anger of this magnitude. it's eating away at me, as much as I don't want it to. It is changing me. It is changing my inner most workings. I don't view things the way that I used to. Very few things really impact me anymore. I don't like it. I don't have much sympathy for people. Someone you loved died? I am so sorry for your loss, but at least it wasn't your child. It could be worse. At least that person got to live a life. I know that is terrible. I know that will offend people. I have lost people I love other than Vi. My grandma died when I was 12. I had never experienced sadness like that before. I remember feeling so sad. I remember wanting to fix everything because I hated seeing my dad so sad. But that feeling? That isn't even a drop in the hat compared to what I am feeling now. I know if you haven't lost a child you can't understand this. But, the people who have lost a child get it. Like my friend Jenny said, "No one else will ever fully understand…nor do we want them too. But it's hard…because we kind of wish they would." (I stumbled upon Jenny's blog when I was googling pictures of staph infections, because I got one on my arm after I got my tattoo for Violet. She lost her beautiful Vienne a year and a half ago suddenly and unexpectedly. Let's not even talk about how weird it is that I found her blog by googling staph, seeing a picture of her daughter Ivy who had a staph infection on her head, and then come to find out MRSA, which is a staph infection, is what took my Violet. Weird, I know. Take a peek at her blog, send her some love. I would never wish this on anyone. I really wouldn't. But, why did it happen to me. To Rich. To Lyvi. To our families. And, especially Violet. Why did it happen to her. Why doesn't she get to live a life? Why do all these other people get to live and have all of their children with them? Why do people get to have so many kids, and I can't even keep my 2? I would have been content with my 2 girls. I really would have been. I wouldn't have wanted anything else in my life, especially if I got even a one second taste of this despair and emptiness. I just wish it wouldn't have happened. And, if it had to happen, if MRSA had to kill a sweet baby, I wish it wasn't my baby. Most of all though, I just wish this didn't have to happen at all. I'm sorry if this offends anyone. I'm not trying to diminish anyone's grief or loss, I'm really not. I wish so much that I didn't have to know how this felt. I wish I could be on the other side where the loss of someone other than a child felt life changing and staggering. I realize to the vast majority of people, these losses are staggering and life changing. Oh, how I wish I was on that side. 

I don't think I have shared this video on here yet. If I have oh well. It's one of my favorites. Violet was like this most of the time. Just pissed off, but happy. Content for a second, and then not content at all. Whiny, but able to be sidetracked with toys or happy talking. I miss her. 

It's almost been 4 months my sweet girl. I can't even believe that. It feels like a lifetime, but it feels like yesterday. I can't believe it has almost been 4 months since I held you. Since I nursed you. I can't believe the last time I nursed you was really the last time. It wasn't peaceful like all the other times. It was gut wrenching. You wanted to eat so bad. Your mouth was so dry and you were so hungry, but you couldn't catch your breath so you couldn't suck and swallow. I don't think about that very often. It hurts too much. My one responsibility was to keep you fed and healthy, and I couldn't do either of those things. I'm so sorry baby girl. I'm so sorry. I love you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars. 

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

The current cycle

There's this weird thing that happens with my grief. It's hard to put into words the feelings. I'll be going through my day, Violet always on my mind, but I'm not a complete disaster. It's almost like I don't realize that she's really gone. Or that I know she's gone but there's nothing I can do about it so why be a mess about it. Why not just accept it, learn to live with it. This lasts for anywhere from a second to a couple days. And, then it all hits me again. She is really gone. It is really as terrible as it sounds. All the pretending or trying to accept it doesn't make it any better. She's gone. And there is nothing I can do about it. She was here. I took the best care of her that I could. But, she died anyways. I will never hold her again. I will never nurse her again. She is gone. This conversation goes on in my head from anywhere to a second to a couple days. And, then I am back to not realizing she is gone/knowing she is gone but understanding that there is nothing I can do about it. This cycle really sucks. 

I was driving to the cemetery to clean off her grave for lawn maintenance tonight, and in a driveway was a little girl, maybe a year old. Chubby chubby, wearing a cute romper. Playing with her dad. That's when it hit me. The cycle of how fucking horrible this really is hit me. Violet will never play in the front yard with Rich. She will never run up and down the driveway chasing and laughing with her sister. I will never have a one year old Violet. This really really really fucking sucks. Sometimes I just want it all to end. I just want to be at the end of all of this. But, is there an end? Not while I am alive there isn't. It will always hurt. Until the second my heart stops beating. What happens after that I don't have a clue. Maybe something. Maybe nothing. Either way, I can't wait to be there and be rid of this pain. I am not going to purposely end my life. I don't want to die right now. I just can't wait until I can die and be done with this stupid life I have to live without Violet. I want to enjoy this life. You only get one, so I will try to enjoy it as best I can while living without my entire soul. I really can't wait until the end though. It makes living worth it. Living just so I can die. How fucking depressing is that.

I wish desperately I could have my one year old Violet. She would be amazing, feisty, crazy, happy, fat, runnnnnnning, pissed off 63% of the time, happier than you could ever imagine the other 37% of the time. She would be SO UltraViolet. I miss her. I miss one year old Violet that I never get to have. I miss her so much.

Can you imagine the eyebrows of one year old Violet. My god they would be incredible.

Hey my fat baby. I miss you. I hate this so much. It isn't fair. It doesn't make a lick of sense. How am I supposed to live in this world that is complete nonsense? I don't really have a choice though do I. This is the only Earth we have, so unless I want to off myself I guess I'm stuck. I wouldn't do that. That wouldn't be fair to you. You died, you don't get to live. So, I will live with you in my heart. I will try baby girl. I really will. I'm not quite as foggy this week. I love you sweetie pie honey buns. I miss you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.

Sunday, May 18, 2014

I'm in a fog

This week has been a fog. I don't know how it is Sunday night. I couldn't tell you what I did all week. Not a clue how so many hours have passed by. I do know that I have been more sad and more angry this week than I have for quite some time. I am just not digesting all this new information very well. I want to run away. I don't want to know that my daughter died from MRSA. I just want to run away and forget everything because everything hurts. I don't want to do this, I don't want this to be my life. I wasn't given a choice, she was violently ripped away from me. And, dammit it's not fair. It's just not fair. I feel like I'm back in those first few terrible weeks. Just existing, trying not to throw punches at people because I am so angry. Trying not to crumble into a million pieces because I am so sad. The waves this week have been brutal and unforgiving. The screaming in my head hasn't stopped one time since Monday when we found out what really happened. My tolerance for shit is at an all time low. I am on edge, and I will break soon. Some poor person is going to say something stupid to me and I am going to go bat shit crazy on them. Or, I will fall to the ground and die. Either one is very possible. I need a day to be catatonic. To do nothing but sit in The Chair and stare at a wall. No TV. No music. No book. No toddler. Just me and my shattered heart. 
I'm just so confused. What in the actual fuck. Thanks for that line Nicole ;). What in the actual fuck?! We are clean healthy people. We do not do drugs. We are not homeless. We are not in prison. We have NONE of the risk factors for a MRSA infection. She was perfect. Healthy. Growing. I don't fuuuuucking get it. I just do not get it. Yes, I know that most people have MRSA colonized on their bodies. But, how does it get from colonization of the outer body, to infection of the lungs. Just like that. Just swoops right in and kills. This scares me infinitely more than the flu. There is a shot to help prevent the flu. There is nothing you can do to stop this. I did everything right. We washed hands. We rarely left the house. She got sick one time. One. Time. And, then she got MRSA in her lungs and died. This MRSA did not come from the hospital, it came from the community. We were rarely in the "community" and when we were she was on my person in the mei tai or in her carseat. She was absolutely perfect. I did everything in my power to protect her. But, it didn't make a damn bit of difference. I just do not understand this. 
This is all so scattered. My mind isn't in a good place right now. I am terrified to start packing. We pulled out all our boxes from the storage closet and it sent me over. I was fine until I grabbed the box labeled "12 month clothes, mostly summer stuff." Those are the clothes Vi should be wearing right now. I packed those away when Lyvi outgrew them with hopes that I would have another daughter to put them on someday. I had another daughter. But, I never got to put her in them. I was so angry I couldn't even verbalize what was happening in my mind. so, I threw a plastic toy shoe as hard as I could. And, I went on with my day. This is the story of my life. 

I'm so angry. I'm so sad. I'm so confused. But, most of all I miss her. I miss her so much. Can this all be over yet?

Hi my baby girl. I haven't written in a long time. I'm sorry. I am so sorry that I had no idea what was happening inside of your body as I watched helplessly. I should have known it wasn't the flu. I should have known. I do not think it would have mattered, but I still should have known. I will never forgive myself for letting you die. It's irrational. I know. But I am your mama and I should have protected you better. I don't know what I did wrong, but I obviously failed you. In the worst way possible. I am so sorry baby girl. I know you wouldn't want me to feel this way. I know you wouldn't want to see me hurting like this. I am going to try my hardest to be better this week. I need to function more. I really will try. I miss you more than I could ever explain. I love you my fat fat baby. Wait for me, let's go to the stars. 

Monday, May 12, 2014


I'm not even sure how to start this. 

Everything we knew is wrong. 

We got her autopsy results today. I am in shock. I am just in shock. She didn't die from Influenza A. 

"The cause of death is community-accquired methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (CA-MRSA) bronchopneumonia. CA-MRSA is usually associated with skin or soft tissue infections, though is a growing cause of pediatric pneumonia. CA-MRSA pneumonia is more commonly seen in children, often follows influenza or influenza-like illness, and is often severe with a mortality rate of up to 40% (more than half of deaths occur within two days of hospital admission). The source of CA-MRSA is often unknown, even after careful history taking.

While the rapid test at the local hospital was positive for Influenza A, viral culture and PCR studies were negative for Influenza A and other common respiratory viruses. Rapid tests are screening with sensitivities of 50-70% and specificities of 90-95%. When flu prevalence is high, false positives are in the 2-3% range. In this case the rapid test in likely to have been a false positive. Still, it is known that rapid tests can detect dead viral particles making it possible that this infant had a resolving influenza A infection that then did not grow in culture. However, the negative PCR test makes this less likely. As CA-MRSA pneumonia often follows a flu-like illness, this infant may have been infected by a virus not detected by the usual respiratory panels, such as rhinovirus."

Let that sink in for a minute.

Digest that. 

Ok, lets discuss. First off, what the fuck. How in the flying fuck did this happen? What this is saying, is that the tiny insignificant cough/stuffy nose that she had 4 days prior to her death was some sort of virus, most likely not Influenza A, but maybe possibly Influenza A, or rhinovirus or some other virus. This virus compromised her immune system enough that she touched/breathed in MRSA and it went crazy and destroyed her little lungs. What this is saying is that any of us can get a common cold, or influenza A, and we can kick it in the ass, but then we could die from CA-MRSA bronchopneumonia. I have googled (obviously) this. Everything says this normally occurs in young patients after influenza or influenza-like illnesses. And, without a high level of suspicion it is very likely to be missed. So, since the rapid test for Influenza A was positive, this infection never crossed anyone's mind. Everyone just assumed it was the flu. This makes so much more sense. I never really understood how it could go so fast. Lung hemorrhage can happen with Influenza A, but it is rare. Her lungs hemorrhaged and had abscesses and necrosis from MRSA. But, how could they have known that? It all happened too fast. Just too fast for her little body. 

My initial reaction was shock. Confusion. Anger. How could this have been missed? How could they have treated my daughter for something she didn't have, and let her die? How did this happen? Then the farther we got in the conversation, the more I realized it wouldn't have mattered. I will never know for sure, but I truly think that even if they would have known immediately that it was CA-MRSA, and started administering antibiotics, she still would have died. Maybe she would have lived for a couple more miserable days. Given the choice I would rather her die after 20 hours then 2 days. She would have been miserable and in so so much pain. She would have been terrified and confused. And, then most likely she would have died anyways. I will never know this for sure, but I have to tell myself this. And, from what I witnessed and the speed that it all happened, I doubt the antibiotics would have even had a chance to work before her lungs hemorrhaged. It was overwhelming and catastrophic and I don't think anything could have changed the outcome. 

I have the report next to me. It tells me everything about her. Her thighs were 24.2 cm, which is 9.5 inches. That's such a fat baby thigh. Her ears were 4.4 cm and 4.5 cm. She was 63.5cm long, 25 inches. 25 inches of perfect beautiful baby. The second paragraph of the report starts "Autopsy showed a well-developed and well-nourished female infant." Well-nourished is the professional way of saying "fat baby." She was such a fat baby.

I'm glad we know. I am glad Rich had the sense to agree to an autopsy. I probably would have said no, since we knew it was Influenza A. I am so glad they did this. But, am I? Am I glad that I know what killed my beautiful baby? I don't think glad is in the vocabulary of a grieving mother. But, I think it was a good decision to have the autopsy done. It doesn't change anything, but it changes everything. 

Right as I finished that paragraph "Your Song" started. Thank you baby girl, for being with me. I need you tonight. This is all too much. I haven't even started to process all of this. I don't know how to feel. Who to blame. What to do. What is there to do, other than be sad? It doesn't make this any better to know what killed you. It doesn't make this any easier, if anything it's harder. This is such a fluke thing. Such bad luck. I have never heard of anything like this happening before today. I have heard of the flu killing people, I have heard of people in hospitals getting MRSA. But, a healthy growing 5 month old baby gets a virus and then CA-MRSA invades and kills her. I am so sorry this happened to you sweetheart. I am just so sorry. I miss you so much that sometimes I don't know how I will go on. And, sometimes I just have to shove it all deep deep down. Know that even when I shove it down, I still think of you. I still miss you. Shoving it down doesn't mean I love you any less, it just means that I can only take so much of the all encompassing grief before I have to shove it down so that I can take care of our Lyvi-Loo. And, really, I can only take so much before I am absolutely certain it will kill me. I love you so much my sweet well-nourished baby. So much. I miss you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars. 

Saturday, May 10, 2014


I have put a word to the emotion that I feel most of the time. Lost. I am just lost. It's like I was on a path. The path that I have always wanted to be on. I was walking along this beautiful path, surrounded by blue skies and wildflowers and streams and frolicking deer, minding my own business, enjoying everything life had to offer. Just having a grand old time. And then, BAM. All of a sudden I'm in the middle of some maze. You know those hedge mazes, one of those. Just smack dab in the middle of one of those. Something picked me up and dropped me in the center of a maze. Dark cloudy skies. I'm just lost and I don't know what to do to get out of here. I have to have something to look towards to keep going. In the first few days it was planning her funeral. After that it was going to Washington. After that it was waiting for friends, cousins, family etc to come over on whatever day they planned. Sometimes it something as going over to Shay's house to bake. The biggest thing now is the house. The house is keeping me moving. I have something to look towards, I have things to get for the house still. But, what happens after the house? What's next? I feel like I'm going to crash, and I'm going to crash hard. I think I might just sit down in the middle of this maze and die. I have to keep moving or I will stop and I will not get back up. I need to find something else to look towards. I want my beautiful path with frolicking deer and wildflowers back dammit. I know I will never get that. Not really. Maybe someday I will be out of the maze, or at least be able to see over the walls. Maybe.

Hi my beautiful fat silly baby. I miss the hell out of you. We took pictures of all of the grandkids for grandma for Mother's day. Topher held a big picture of you. It was so heartbreakingly beautiful. I was having a hard time feeling ok with the picture. On the way there I felt awful, I couldn't bear to do it. To have a picture of all the grandkids and you not really be in it. I was sick to my stomach, but then pompeii came on. I can always tell when it's you and not just a fluke. It was you, but just to get your point across the second Pompeii ended I switched the station and I Will Wait started. Then when we pulled in, I rolled down my window and Pompeii was on again on a different station in your Aunt Angie's car and it was on my station again at the same time. So, Pompeii 3 times and I Will Wait all in the span of about 10 minutes. If that didn't convince me to suck it up and have Lisa take the pics I don't know what would have. Thank you for that sweet girl. I needed that little push from you. I hate this, I can't stand that you aren't here sitting on Topher's lap trying to crawl away and eat dandelions. I hate every second of this. But, I love you. Oh how I love you. I'm not even going to mention how tomorrow is stupid stupid stupid Mother's Day. Stupid. I miss you sweet girl. So much. Wait for me, let's go the stars. 

Almost perfect. Almost.

Wednesday, May 7, 2014

This is what I get for making plans

This wasn't the plan. This wasn't how my life was supposed to happen. I wanted to live a boring happy life. I wanted to raise our beautiful girls, in a beautiful home. I wanted to bicker and fight and fall more in love with my husband every year. I wanted to have a boring life, where the saddest thing that happened was maybe needing to put our dog down. I could see it all unfolding in front of me. Everything was so perfect. Rich and I had never been stronger than we were after we had Vi. My girls were happy and feisty and growing. Everyone in my life was happy. Everything was great. I will even go so far as to say everything was perfect. My life was going exactly where I had always planned for it to go. We were talking about buying a home. Rich was very happy with our 2 girls, and I was leaning strongly to being happy with just 2. I could see it. It was all within my reach. I could feel it with the tips of my fingers. And then, in a matter of seconds, it was gone. All of it. Violently ripped out of my reach. Ripped to shreds. Set ablaze. That beautiful boring happy life I so wanted to live was gone. I still have Rich, we are staying strong somehow. We still have our Lyvi-loo. We are buying our dream home. We still have the rest of our family. But, there is a giant hole. A deep dark black hole where Violet should be. We are all walking disasters. My parents. My siblings. My cousins. My friends. My Lyvi-Loo. We are all walking around with gaping holes in our hearts. People who don't even know me are aching for Violet. Her loss is profound. It changes the way you look at life. Her loss has changed everything about me. Sure, I survived. I'm surviving. But, am I? Am I really? No. I'm not. I died when she died. I am not and will never be the same person I was before January 31st, 2014. This just wasn't supposed to happen to us. It wasn't. Violet was supposed to grow up. I can't stand this. I loathe this. All of it. Everything about it. I hate having to tell Lyvi that her sister died. I finally said those words to her today. I have never said those words out loud to Lyvi. I have always just told her that Violet got sick and she had to go away  she is in the stars, and she will never be able to come back. But, I knew at some point I needed to start being more upfront with her. She doesn't know what die means. When I told her today that Violet died she looked at me with big sad eyes, eyes that comprehend more than we give her credit for. Eyes that are slowing starting to get it. Eyes that break my already shattered heart. Don't get me wrong, Lyvi is fine. Lyvi is happy. We are trying as hard as we can to keep her life normal. But, she is sad. She misses Violet and that is fine. It's healthy. She should miss Violet, and she should be sad. This is a sad sad thing. I realized the other day that if we aren't able to give Lyv another sibling for one reason or another she will never have the chance to be an aunt. How fucking sad is that. I love being an aunt. Aside from being a mother, being an aunt is the next best thing. Lyvi deserves to be an aunt. And, a mother if she wants that. So did Violet though and we all know how that turned out. Apparently this is what I get for making plans. I have always been superstitious. I have always had a feeling that I was going to jinx something, anything, by saying specifics. I never realized that this is what all that was about. I never realized that by making plans for what I wanted out of life, that I would lose my daughter. The universe is kind of a dick.

Hi my sweet girl. I hope you are ok. I hope you are happy. All I want is to get you back, but since I can't have that I just want you to be ok. I wish I could know that. I wish I wasn't so skeptical and logical. I have been sleeping without any pills for a couple weeks now, but you still haven't visited me. I want you to visit me in my dreams, even though I know waking up will be like losing you all over again. This is so terrible. I hate it so much. I hate that of all the 6 billion people in the world, that this happened to you. So unlucky. I miss you so much my sweet fat baby. I would give anything to get you back. I love you my Violetta Villalobos. Wait for me, lets go to the stars. 

Tuesday, May 6, 2014


You know how when you buy a new car, and then you start seeing the car everywhere? I genuinely hope it is the same phenomenon happening now, with all the sad stories of little ones passing away. Since Violet died I have stumbled across so many heartbreaking stories. Vienne. Ollie. Sage. Preston, Julian, Kaden. Olive. Kate. Maddalena. The twins. So many others. And, today I heard about a beautiful sweet little dude named Ryan who died in a tragic accident. I just can't shake this. Why does it happen so often and I never knew it? How could all of these beautiful kids be dying and I was so oblivious. I encountered some child death before all off this. Maddie. Ronan. Ryker. Shaundi. A few others that I have sadly and embarrassingly forgotten the names of. My sweet cousins Brad and Kate lost their baby boy, Miles, almost 4 years ago. So, I knew it happened, I knew it could happen to someone you love, I just didn't know how often it happens. I went to a Mother's day lunch yesterday for mom's who have lost a child. So many sad tragic stories. It is disgusting, just disgusting. There is no other way to describe it. No other word to explain the horror of having to live the rest of your days missing a huge piece of your heart and soul. It is comforting in a strange awful way to know that I'm not alone. But, oh how I wish I was alone. All these beautiful babies and kids. I just can't even handle it. All their broken beautiful mama's. I wish I could give all of them a hug, tell them that I am in this with them. We're in this together ladies. And, to sum it up, it's fucking awful.

God I miss her.

I miss you silly baby. I just miss you. Wait for me, lets go to the stars.

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Shot to the Gut

It's late. I'm tired. I should be trying to sleep, but my mind is racing. It has been racing for days, but it's been too fast and scattered to even try to make sense of it. I haven't had the urge to write. It takes a few days or a shot to the gut to get my mind to slow back down. The shot to the gut happened tonight. Lyvi and I were laying in bed looking at pictures and watching videos of Violet, like we almost always do before bed. We had looked at a few pictures and started watching a little video. Out of nowhere Lyvi says, "Mommy. When Baby Vi coming back?" Damnit. Fuck fuck fuck. Can I please just die right now so I don't have to tell my almost 3 year old that her baby sister is never coming back. Ever. Death is not a concept a toddler's brain should have to try to understand. I'm 26 years old and I don't understand it at all. How in the hell is a 2 year old supposed to grasp the concept? I told her, "Baby girl, Violet can't come back. She's never coming back. She's in the stars forever and ever." Of all the things I have ever said in all my 26 years of life, this was the hardest. We have been up front with Lyvi about it all, as much as we have felt comfortable with. I have told her that Violet can't come back. I have never given her any reason to think that Vi might come back someday. But, apparently I've done a shitty job. OR maybe it's just that this whole thing is shitty. It's so shitty to have to tell your daughter that her sister is gone. Forever. Just gone. No warning, the last time Lyvi saw Violet alive she was happy and playing. The next day she didn't see me or Rich at all. And, the morning after that her sweet beautiful baby sister was gone. Never to return. Just gone. After I told her that Violet is gone forever she got sad. And quiet. She had tears in her eyes and her little lip was quivering. I could see her brain spinning, trying to understand, trying to put the words together to say how sad she is. But, she can't do that. She's so little. Her little brain is making new connections everyday, but the concept of death and how final it is just doesn't compute. But, I'm very sure that this is all shaping her. For the better or for the worse, I don't know. Hopefully for the better. I hope that she will not ever take life for granted. I hope that she will love fully and deeply, but will also not give her love over easily because she knows how bad it hurts to lose a love. I hope that she will always think about her baby sister, and if she ever has kids I hope she will tell them about their aunt Violet. My poor little girl's heart is broken. She misses her baby sister, and she just doesn't understand any of this. I have been thinking a lot about how unfair this is to me. I try not to venture there often because it just seems so petty compared to the injustice Violet was served with. But, now I really can't think about how unfair this is to me, because what about my Lyv. She lost her baby sister. She lost her mom, well her old mom. Now she has this shattered broken mom who is desperately trying to keep her head above water. Who loses her cool so much faster now because she is just so sad she can't seem to deal with the normal everyday stuff as easily. This mom who cries all the time and is forever talking about her dead baby sister with her in the vein hope that she will maybe remember her forever. This mom who looks like her old mom, but isn't even a shadow of that person anymore. This is all just so fucking shitty.

I miss you silly baby. Lyvi misses you so so much. I wish you didn't go. I wish you were still here wreaking havoc and making life difficult. I just miss you. I am still under some false fantasy that this isn't forever and that maybe just maybe someday I will get you back. I know I won't...but maybe. I love you sweet girl. Stick close to your big sister, she needs some comfort. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry. I love you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.