Today I have so much to say, I don’t know where to start. My mind jumps from one subject to another before it’s finished.
Do I start from day one and I tell you what happened the day you died? I don’t know what time it was, but someone carried Ruthie and I, in the middle of the night, unbeknownst to us, to Uncle Mart and Aunt Tish’s (next door neighbors). When I woke up I knew why I was there, but didn’t want to know. I had suspicions. We were supposed to be in school as I listened to kids playing outside before the school bell rang.
I didn’t think about what Aunt Tish had to go through keeping the information to herself, anxiously awaiting Dad’s arrival to break the dreaded news.
I somehow knew it was coming—your death. After all, I did pray for it. But I found out only recently that Ruthie had no idea. Total shocker. Not a single hint of even the possibility that you might be gone forever. I can’t imagine what that must have been like either. How totally devastating for her. Thinking about that can break my heart all over.
Mom, you’d really be proud of Ruthie.