Pushing the stroller today,

as your little brother and sister looked up at me from behind curious eyes, 

an image came to mind. 

Of you.

Walking there alongside me. 

Your crooked brown pigtails bouncing. 

Laughter in your blue eyes.

I could see you there as the proud big sister.

Playing mother hen to the twins. 

Showing them off to passers by. 

"There are two," you might say, just in case someone hadn't noticed.

I imagined teaching you about the water coming over the waterfall beside me, 

pointing out things in the nature that surrounds us,

and singing songs to you the way I do with your siblings.

I could see how things might have been, 

had things been different. 

A snapshot of another life. 

A life where the five of us,

our complete family,

are all together.

And maybe we are, 

in some other space, 

in some other universe. 

Maybe we had to sacrifice being together here,

so that we could live in that snapshot there?

Pushing the stroller today,

as your little brother and sister looked up at me from behind curious eyes, 

an image came to mind. 

Of you.

Walking there alongside me. 

Your crooked brown pigtails bouncing. 

Laughter in your blue eyes.

I could see you there as the proud big sister.

Playing mother hen to the twins. 

Showing them off to passers by. 

"There are two," you might say, just in case someone hadn't noticed.

I imagined teaching you about the water coming over the waterfall beside me, 

pointing out things in the nature that surrounds us,

and singing songs to you the way I do with your siblings.

I could see how things might have been, 

had things been different. 

A snapshot of another life. 

A life where the five of us,

our complete family,

are all together.

And maybe we are, 

in some other space, 

in some other universe. 

Maybe we had to sacrifice being together here,

so that we could live in that snapshot there?

Yesterday it happened.
My little snowflakes outlived their big sister.

It's funny, in the blink of an eye that has been their first month with us, they have already done more living than Peyton was afforded, and yet her life felt, somehow, so much longer. She felt so much more present. It's as if she knew that every day for her was numbered, and spent them loading our hearts with love to carry with us beyond her grave.

Maybe it is because my relationship with Peyton has become so different these last few years. Maybe it is because she has, in many ways, become my confidant. I talk to her about everything. On that hill I had what felt to be a thousand conversations about her short life, our life before her, life after her, our hopes/dreams/fears. She was with us only 28 days, but we have talked in our own special way every single day since.

It is a strange feeling, to go from mothering the living, to the dead, to the living and dead. For years I have had one way conversations, pointing out the beauty of the nature around me or just talking on life in general to an emptiness in the back seat. An emptiness that now, though still non responsive verbally, is no longer empty, but filled with two growing, thriving, learning little beings. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to believe that any of this is real.

It is quite an adjustment to make to go from feeling as if life has passed one by, to once again feeling like a member of the living. These twins bring with them so much excitement about the future, it is an excitement that I thought for a long time would never again be possible for me.

And so I say thank you Peyton. For helping Mommy get through a darkness in these last few years that at times felt endless and unforgiving. Thank you for helping us to keep the faith. Thank you for showing us how beautiful the love between parent and child was, so that we never had any choice but to try again. Thank you for bringing your brother and sister to us safely.

Most of all, thank you for embedding yourself so deeply in my heart that though I have to live without you physically, I am never forced to greet a day without feeling your spirit close to me.

My baby.
My big girl.
I love you.