Remembering You Each Month

Another year has now passed without you, my child. I loved you so much. Many occasions throughout the year remind me of you.

January was the month you got engaged, in 1992. You and Simon went to the cabin in Prescott, AZ, and he proposed to you there. You called, so very excited. Ironically, in 1999, my Godchild Marcy was born on the exact day you got engaged seven years earlier. She is a product of my daughter’s best friend Lynn, who honored her best friend by naming her after you. I was so pleased she did that.

February reminds me of the wonderful Valentine Day cards you never failed to give me, always cute, always funny, always signed, LOVE, Marcy. I have kept a lot of them. I wish I’d kept them all to look at from time to time. Now I only get one card with a loving message on it from my husband. It makes me smile, but I miss your cards the most.

March is the month you died, so it is not my best month. You and Simon had just bought a new car, driven it out of the lot and were on your way to your favorite restaurant to celebrate the purchase. Out of a side street came a white van speeding at 70 miles an hour and missing the stop sign, he slammed right into your new car. You didn’t know what happened; you died instantly. Simon lived, but it took him 15 years and many operations to recover. I have done many memorials and set up scholarships so that Marcy will not be forgotten.

In April I always think of the grandma you loved so much who was born during that month and how the two of you got along so well and always did things together. She was your best babysitter, always willing and available to help out when needed. I know she taught you many things that helped you mature into the wonderful person that you became. She died of a broken heart one year after you in 1995.

May brings Mother’s Day, probably the saddest holiday of the year because you are gone. We used to celebrate Mother’s Day by going out for lunch or dinner and you would give me a very sweet gift every year. You loved giving gifts: to me, to your father and to all your many friends. I always think of you on Mother’s Day and how it will never be the same without you.

One June in the late 80’s, I remember thinking it would be a great idea for you, my mom and I to go on a trip together. We chose St. Thomas on my mom’s birthday and spent 5 days there together shopping, sightseeing and relaxing in the sun. Mom’s luggage never arrived, and you thought it a perfect opportunity to get my mom some updated clothes to wear! It was one of the only times the three of us got to enjoy each other with no one else around.

July is your birthday month. I dutifully celebrate it each year as does a few of your friends, and I always go to the cemetery to personally wish you a happy birthday. You died at age 27, and this year you would have been 45 years old. (And it always seems like just yesterday I was holding you and wishing you a happy birthday.) You always asked for a sister or brother, but it was never meant to be. I clean your stone until it shines every time I go. I know you would have wanted it to always look good. You were always very organized and neat.

August, after graduating college, you headed to Los Angeles and got the most perfect job in the marketing department of the L.A. Music Center. You loved the work and the people you worked with, and they felt the same about you. You were so good at what you did and when I’d see stories written by you, I was so proud. Here, I was a journalist, took classes in school to learn to write, and you did it naturally, not from books. A stone dedicated to you is on the Music Center plaza near the water fountain.

September is my birthday month, and I miss your cute cards, your thoughtful gifts and all your hugs. Birthdays were special to you, and you always made sure that your Dad never forgot either.

October to me represents Halloween and all the years I had to help you dress up and trick or treat when you were young. You were a fairy princess, a cowgirl, and sometimes just a ghost. You always looked cute, and your dad and I always enjoyed trick or treating with you. You knew the candy had to be inspected before you could eat any of it. So, you spilled it on the floor when the night was over to go through and throw away any open pieces.

November and December were family holidays. Thanksgiving and Christmas/Chanukah were your favorites. You loved having the family together for meals, you loved cooking some of the food and you loved the presents. Family was important to you, even though ours was small. You sometimes invited friends who didn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays and that was perfectly fine with us.

You never had a chance to fulfill your dreams; you had so many. You loved life, you loved others, and we, in turn, all loved you. I am glad I have wonderful memories to think of as each year passes.

You will always be a part of my heart and the heart remembers always.