I sit here, on November 18th trying to put my thoughts together for an organized and well written blog post for Michaela's anniversary on the 19th. It's the first one without my mom. The first year that she's not here to write something herself. I feel the need to write something spectacular and heart warming to honor them both, even though I know nothing I come up with would be as good as what my momma would have written. And as with most things I've tried to write over the last few years, I feel it will probably look more like a jumble of thoughts and emotions that could have been put together by an ADHD squirrel. On top of that, what is there new to say, that my mom hasn't already said 1,000 times? Still, I will try.
My family has always known great loss. My whole life (or what I can remember, at least) has always had a shadow of loss hanging over it. But these last few years have REALLY hit us hard. First with the loss of Karina, my older brother's wife at only 36 years old. So suddenly and unexpectedly bringing this great wave of grief tearing through our family once again. Followed exactly 11 months to the day by my Jamie, when I learned what truly soul crushing grief felt like. I didn't just lose my husband or my best friend, my entire life and all the plans we had for it were ripped away. Not to mention the miscarriage Jamie and I had also just gone through before getting pregnant with the Twinkies. Then came new life, two tiny wonderful souls and I thought our dark times were behind us as these babies brought in life anew full of hope and possibilities. But AGAIN, just a few months later, we lost our matriarch, my momma. I know everyone has their troubles, their own tragedies and losses... But I really feel like we've gotten more than our fill for a lifetime. Listening to Bruno Mars "Places We Won't Walk" and letting these gut wrenching sobs work their way out of my body for all of the people I've lost, for all of the memories that will never be made, all of the possibilities that are possible no more.
I grew up longing for my big sister. Someone to talk to about boys, teach me about makeup and life. Someone to steal clothes from... Though I did manage to do that last one with Ariel anyway. haha! I would watch my friends with older sisters fight and I felt jealous. Sure, I had two younger sisters... But it wasn't the same. Not that I was necessarily that sister for my younger sisters, in some ways I may have been more of a cautionary tale. HA! I hope I was for them, at least in part, what I had longed for from Michaela.
It is comforting to think, that my mom and Michaela are reunited again in the great hereafter. This day is difficult for us, but for them, they no longer feel this pain. I like to think they're up there with Jamie and Karina, watching over us, cheering us on, and trying to guide us down life's difficult path without them here. Though that doesn't necessarily make going through life without them any easier.
This summer I went to California and I did my tour of memory lane. Visiting the places we lived and other memorable spots I hadn't seen in years because of COVID and my mom moving away. One of those stops was of course, Mexico Super (previously Rainbow Market) and that horrible, ugly tree/bush. The ribbons had all been removed as they trimmed the branches to keep the parking lot clear. From the distance I thought I could still see one remaining, but I didn't feel comfortable getting out of my car alone at the time and wasn't able to get a better look. I know this is just a place where something terrible happened. Michaela isn't there, any more than Jamie and my mom are left behind in the hospitals where we lost them... In fact, it's a terrible place where one of the worst things to happen in our lives took place. I've expressed this sentiment before, I know, but going there every year - when you think about it, is kind of messed up. But on the flip side of that, Michaela walked out of that store feeling the joy of a child experiencing their first bout of independence with the added bonus of soda and candy. That was the last time my sweet sister was able to experience happiness, excitement.
I try not to think much about what happened after that car drove away. This is harder to do now, now that the kidnappers identity is known. I won't write his name here, as he doesn't deserve to have one other than inmate #E13426. I've read every word of the court transcripts from his previous attempts to be released on parole. They describe his prior crimes in all of their nightmare inducing detail. Making it nearly impossible to not think of what Michaela may have had to suffer at his hand. I don't understand how people like him come to exist. I don't understand how someone could be filled with so much hate and violence. When we first discovered his identity I fell down a rabbit hole of needing all of the information. I researched everything about him, about his family. He had a family. He had been married. He had children of his own. What were they like? How could this monster have a family? Did they know he was evil? Do they love him? Did he love them? Could someone who did what he did have the capability to love anyone? Could they be good people? I eventually had to rip myself out of that because it wasn't healthy for me and I'd never really know these answers. It's comforting to know that he's been in prison for years, unable to hurt anyone else... But it breaks my heart all over again that my mom will not be here to see him brought to justice for Michaela's loss. I plan to go to California for the trial. I'd like to be able to look the boogie man of my childhood (Hell, even adulthood. I've crawled into my car from the passenger side as an adult, because I didn't like the looks of the car parked on my drivers side. Thats not normal.) in the eye and know he holds no power anymore.
I know Michaela's story has touched more lives than I could ever possibly imagine. I'd like to think that because of her, because of my mom's writings, that other children have been spared from terrible tragedies. That other parents held their babies extra close, kept them extra safe. Maybe, because of Michaela, a parent said "no" to their child who wanted to do something more mature than their age. Maybe that parent's no prevented another tragedy and that child would be grown now and working on the cure for cancer. I struggle in the face of everything that's happened through my life to continue to believe that everything happens for a reason... But I do still believe. I have to. Nobody and nothing is inconsequential. A million different butterfly wings changing the course of history. Michaela was a beacon of light and will always be remembered, loved, and cherished by so many. Thank you for loving her, thank you for saying her name, thank you for taking the time out of your day today to think of her and send your love heavenward.
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