Dear Hannah…

Dear Hannah…

Luci is your age, nearly exactly. Every night I see her lately I see your tiny body next to her. I see you sitting quietly in that big chair in our living room. I wonder why you’re so quiet. I don’t blame you; it’s a scary world full of people who cause pain intentionally and completely by accident.

Since you were born, I haven’t spent a lot of time with you. I should have. I wish I had. I really wish I had. In the middle of this whirling life, you never know how often you’ll get to see the one’s you love before it becomes so difficult or even impossible. If there’s something I could say to you it’s this:

All the people closest to me hurt without you. The truth is, we aren’t complete. Even in the middle of hurt, or confusion, or blind anger; we irreversibly love you, your mom, your dad, and your siblings.

Some times this world is so confusing. We do our best to weed out those things that cause us agony, and then we’re surprised when we turn around to see someone we trusted can hurt us too. I think that’s the hardest part. There’s no avoiding pain, because our lives are so full of people. People fail. I wish it weren’t true, but the harsh reality is: failure is the default position for humans trying to practice love. We lash out in anger. We make rash decisions. When we stand amid the wreckage we’re absolutely stunned at the blast radius our oblivious tantrum created. The only hope we have is to imitate and eventually emulate the author of love; the author of you.

I miss your curls, your slow and steady gaze, your unpredictable smile. I miss watching Luci try desperately to hug you while you passively protest.

I want to be a part of your life; but I have to trust God to navigate the jumbled cords that sit between today and that reality. I don’t know where to start, or if I even have a role. Just know that tonight I’m saying a prayer for you, your family (all of it), and tomorrow.

If an apology, sacrifice, or any other thing would fix the uncertainty surrounding you and the rest of my family right now; I’d gladly offer it up. I tend to think things are more complicated than that.

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