I'm behind in my letter writing. No big surprise, really - we've been a bit busy and dreadfully self-involved. I'm behind on thank you notes (and I was doing a pretty good job of keeping up with those). I need to write a letter to Dinah, our Compassion child.
But the letter I really need to write is to Jorge's family. I don't know where or how to begin. After all, this letter is not about me, it's about them and the incredible gift they gave us. Do I tell them about Babygirl? If so, how much? What would I want to hear if I were them?
It's a conflicting internal conversation. Part of me would want to hear no more than "Thank you" and "Our child is doing well." Would I really want to hear about someone else being able to do all the things that my child, having died, will never be able to do? Or would it make me feel better to know that someone else's child can sleep better, eat better, swim, ride horses, ski, travel, plan for college....
They sent us a picture. I'd like to reciprocate that gesture. I'm not sure I should. If I do, just her? A family shot?
And I need to involve Babygirl in the process. I'm sure a note from her would mean far more than anything I could possibly say, but how do I approach this with her?
I'm not usually particularly indecisive. And when I am, I usually end up figuring out what exactly has had me holding off on doing something. I'm having a hard time picking my own brain on this, but at least part of it has to do with a deep and basic personality flaw: I have trouble asking for and receiving help from others. I don't like to feel obligated, indebted. I like to stand on my own two feet, thank you very much, and I'm not fond of "crutches" of any kind. I don't like contemplating how badly I've been crippled this year - emotionally, physically, financially and even spiritually. Crutches, hell! I've needed mental wheelchairs, financial ambulances and spiritual hospitalization!
I can't repay any of it. I think it's time to order a death certificate for my pride and get over myself.