Sunflowers at Sunset

Three years without Tay.

How can a number play such a significant part in my life? It’s been three years since I sang “You Are My Sunshine” to you quietly while the beeping of the machines slowly stopped. I silently begged God for you to try and take one small breath so that I could immediately make the surgeons turn the machines back on. It took your heart three minutes to stop, and for you to let me know you were already gone.

Since you died and these three years have passed, new people have come and gone. As a mom, when you meet someone new the first question they ask is “how many kids do you have”? I used to try and avoid going out and meeting new people because I was not brave enough to answer that question. What do you say? I have three children…then the next question is “oh how old are they”? They are 11, 7 and I had a 15 year old….queue the tears and the follow up “had? What happened to her”? Do you say “I have two children”, and then go home and cry from the shame and the guilt of hiding your child that died after 15 years to avoid your grief and emotions? No. I’ve learned to know and defend my story, to tell everyone about my three children and you Taylor, even though you are no longer here. I say your name, through the tears. Every. Single. Time.

I was telling a friend a few weeks ago that I didnt understand why this year felt so heavy, so much harder than last. He told me it’s because we are moving farther away from her, and I realized he was right. My fear of people moving farther away from her, forgetting her and not showing up for her was profound.

Tonight erased that for me. You all showed up again. You came in from college, sat through traffic, fought the masses during the chaos of Christmas to say her name, to be there for her, to show us you are still here.

There will never be a way for any of you to understand what that means to my heart, my family, the littles…but most of all to her.