The Gift Of A Letter

Dear Rach,

Your dad recently started keeping a blog, essentially of letters to you. I wonder if you ever knew about blogs. I have a feeling that once you figured out how to get one started (with the help of Dad's Tech Support), you'd have one up and running - probably focusing on Shay Shay.

I like the idea of your daddy's blog for a few reasons. I think it's good for him to put his thoughts to paper (he's such an amazing writer) and I hope it helps him deal with this whole grief thing. He and I talk quite a bit about you and our sadness, but I'm sure there are things he'd rather not say out loud for fear of making me more sad (or of him breaking down and crying).

So the blog provides him with an outlet for his thoughts & emotions and gives me a glimpse into the depth of his heart and mind. What wife wouldn't give for that opportunity?!

I started writing to you back in May right after you were killed. I stumble on that word. The brutal honesty is that you were murdered. I'm not sure why I hesitate to use "murder" instead of "killed". Anyhow, I began writing in a small notebook at night in the hotel (the very same one we stayed in when we came out to meet Shaylyn for the first time when she was only 10 days old!), writing page after page, unable to stop the torrent of emotions that needed to be said, if only to that tablet. I've always felt that writing is therapeutic and I was so full of anger, sadness, and confusion during that first week (still am after more than five months) that I needed to put my feelings down on paper.

Being the Luddite I am, I wasn't sure I'd want to have a blog of my own. However, after writing several of these letters to you and sharing them with family and friends I've reconsidered. I figure this way people can peruse the site at their leisure and not feel put upon to read my sad emails as they fill up their in-boxes. I still plan to put them together in some sort of a book for Shaylyn to have when she's older. She'll want (and need) to know every little detail of who you were in this world and I hope I can help her discover the mommy who loved her more than anything else in the world.

I think of you constantly, every single day, every single hour, and miss you more than I could ever imagine.

Love,

Les