August 24, 2005

Dear Gabriella,

Hey there, sunshine.  Today is my birthday and I'm thirty-three years old.  
It's the middle of the night (I can't sleep these last few nights).  I woke up 
a little while ago and I started thinking about you and our little "age game."  
You know the one.  On your birthday you'd catch up with my age for a few months 
and then I'd spring ahead again on mine.  This year isn't going to be like that 
though.  This year, Kiddo, you're just going to stay thirty-two.  

I got to thinking about this and it just breaks my heart.  I guess I can think 
of it this way.  It will be like as I get older, you'll be getting younger.  
You would have loved that, wouldn't you?

This thinking about your age really upset me.  Not only was I crying, but I was 
blubbering.  I called Rachel in the middle of the night ( I just got off the 
phone with her).  I guess we talked for about ten minutes.  While I was crying 
to her I explained why I called; she couldn't understand a word of it.  So I 
explained again, but this time I tried to do so WITHOUT the tears.  I'm not 
sure how well I succeeded on that front, but she did get the idea.

The other day Paul called me because I had to get your driver's license number 
for the insurance company.  I looked everywhere for your card, but it had been 
stolen (which I had already figured).  While looking for your most recent card 
though, I DID find your New York license (from just four years ago) and your 
New Mexico license from 1993.  Damn, you look SO young in that picture.  You're 
hair was cropped very short-- I've never seen you with your hair that way 
before.  I know the story behind the hair though, I remember you told it to me: 
you're hair had become so frazzled over the years that you just had to cut it 
all off and finally just start fresh.

You know, I see a parallel here.  It jumped right out at me, there's no way 
that I could have missed it, but there's no way that I could have SEEN it 
without writing this letter to you.  I am getting a fresh start.  It's not a 
start that I ever would have chosen for myself, but my life has changed, my 
world has changed.  You're death has pushed both Dominic and I in a direction 
that we never would have headed before.  We've always spent a lot of time 
together, he and I, but we've both bonded more since you died.  He has been 
through so much for someone his age.  You would be proud with how he is holding 
up.

Often when you were alive and I would start you a letter I would write at it on 
and off for a few days (rarely, weeks).  I can't do that anymore though.  I 
can't leave a letter open, not to you.  I have to stop this one now even though 
I WANT to continue because, primarily, I need to try to get back to sleep.  I 
don't want to be missing my "window."  You know what I mean!

Sometimes, Gabriella, I really wish that I DID believe in an afterlife and God 
and all that Jazz.  Then, you could be looking down at Dominic and I from 
Heaven and smiling.  Then I could know that you felt better-- that YOU were 
happy.  And, if there's ever anything I ever wanted for you, Kiddo, it was for 
you to be happy.

With Love, Your Husband,
Adam