Violin

My dear Hailey,

Today was the first day of violin for your sister. She said they learned the A & D notes by plucking. I remember that's how you started too. Learning how to pluck first, then eventually playing with the bow...

When Bella first told me a couple of weeks back that she was interested in playing an instrument this year- specifically; the violin. My heart sunk, inadvertently.

It's not that I wasn't happy...I was. But I was sad too. All I could do was think back to when you first announced you wanted to play. Then going to the music store, you being measured for the right size violin & then taking it home with the nice black case it came with.

You took such good care of it afterwards.

You were so happy & excited. Just like your sister.

.......

The violin Bella is now playing is the very same one that you played. It's yours. We had been renting it month after month after we came back from the trip....

When it came time, I couldn't bear to give it back. So I ended up buying it.

I can remember the girl on the telephone line, telling me..."Well, I wouldn't actually recommend buying it mam, because of it's size. It's a small one. Your child is likely to outgrow it quickly..."

Then when I told her it was yours and you passed away and I was keeping it for sentimental reasons, she felt so bad. She apologized. I told her not to. She didn't know & was just doing her job & I appreciated her giving me the advice. Then she took my credit card info and said the certificate would be in the mail.

In my mind, I told myself that one day, someone would use it. And it came true baby girl, because now your sister can use it. I told her how proud we are of her, and how you are too. How you wouldn't of wanted it just sitting there, collecting dust.

This morning, when I dropped her off, I told her again how you were probably going to be watching over her shoulder on her first day of practice. I smiled, kissed her & wished her good luck.

On the outside, I was happy and proud.

On the inside, my heart was being torn apart.

That is grief.

I am two different people- who are like opposites in fact.

I am the happy, normal me...thinking how awesome it is for Bella to be wanting to learn how to play an instrument. On top of being a patrol & in chorus this year! And the violin too! Just like you! How brave she is. How lovely she is. How she'll be playing your exact instrument & not only will it not bother her...but she will play it proudly.... & hopefully in some way, feel closer to you.

And I am also the grieving mommy, missing her little girl more than words can say and wanting to scream at the world- Why? Why? Why?

And wondering if you'd really be proud and happy...only because you never liked to share anything with anyone...specially Bella. And her with you. Because you're sisters and that's what sisters do. They argue, fight, compete, but deep in the bottom of their hearts....they love and adore each other, with a bond so fierce, it is unbreakable.

And thinking, you should be here. To watch Bella practice, to teach her what you know. You should be here...

And asking, would you be still be playing violin I wonder?

And the more and more I try to figure things out, the more confused I get.

This is grief.

So I look into my heart for the answers instead. And my heart tells me that where you are now, you don't feel any "bad" feelings, and that you are happy and proud...because although not perfect, you know we're trying our best to move forward and live this thing called life...

That you love us like we love you.

.......

This is what grief does. This is what we become. Two different people, feeling two (or tons more) different things, drastically.

Yet, I'm not two different people, my mouse. I'm just me.

I am the me that was hurt last year when your violin teacher didn't say a word to me after you passed. He just deleted me from his contact list so I wouldn't be included in his email blasts.

Maybe he didn't know what to say?

And who passed me a couple of times in school and avoided eye contact....

Maybe he didn't know who I was? Or again...didn't know what to say?

I am the me that will attend your sister's recital when that day comes, fighting off the tears and the aching in my heart with the memory of your first and last recital....

But smiling from ear to ear, taking pictures & recording it every second of the way. Because that is the cheesy, loving mom that I am- just like I did with you. And I'm so glad I did.

Some people; people who never experienced grief; much less the loss of a child; might say;

It's just a violin.

But it's not my angel.

It's so much more than that.

To me, it represents; what once was; what was lost; what could of been; what will never be. And...rebirth.

Maybe after your sister learns how to play it this time, maybe years and years from now...

If and when her or Sissy have their own kids, and if one day they want to play, they can give them your violin and say...

Do you who this belonged to?

Your beautiful Auntie Hailey.

<3

I love you.

Forever,
Your mommy.

2 years already
 

<3

<3