The Q life Grief Journey

Dear Everett,

Happy first birthday, sweet boy.

Someday, when you are old enough to understand these words, I hope you will read this letter and know just how much your arrival meant to our family—and especially to your Granny.

You came into this world during one of the most difficult seasons of my life.

Just one month before you were born, we lost your Uncle Quinten.

I was still trying to understand how the world could keep turning without my son in it. My heart was broken in a way I didn’t know a heart could break.

And then you arrived.

One month separated one of the greatest losses of my life from one of its greatest joys.

That was a lot for one heart to hold.

I was grieving my son while celebrating my grandson.

I was crying tears of heartbreak and tears of happiness almost at the same time.

For a while, I wondered how those two emotions could possibly live together.

But then I looked into your eyes.

And somehow, they did.

You didn’t take away my grief, Everett.

That was never your job.

You didn’t replace what I had lost. No one ever could.

Instead, you gave my hurting heart somewhere new to love.

You reminded me that even while we are grieving what has ended, we can still be grateful for what is beginning.

Your first year has given me so many small moments of healing.

Watching you grow.

Seeing you smile.

Hearing you laugh.

Holding you in my arms.

Watching your mommy and daddy become parents and seeing how completely they love you.

There have been moments when I have looked at you and felt something I wasn’t sure I would feel again after losing Quinten.

Pure joy.

And what a blessing that has been.

Someday, we will tell you about your Uncle Quinten.

I wish more than I can say that the two of you could have met.

I wish he could have held you.

I wish I had a picture of the two of you together.

I wish you could have grown up knowing his laugh, his kindness, his generosity, and the way he loved his family.

But although you won’t have your own memories of him, you will know him.

We will make sure of that.

You will hear his stories.

You will see his pictures.

You will know how much he loved his family and how excited he would have been to watch you grow.

His name will be spoken in your life because he will always be part of our family.

Just as you are.

Your first year has also taught your Granny something important about grief.

I once thought sadness and joy belonged on opposite sides of life.

Now I know they can sit right beside each other.

I can miss Quinten desperately and laugh with you.

I can wish for one more hug from my son while holding my grandson tightly in my arms.

I can grieve the life that ended and celebrate the beautiful little life just beginning.

One does not take anything away from the other.

There is room in my heart for both.

And perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts you have given me.

You have reminded me that a broken heart can still love.

It can still laugh.

It can still hope.

It can still experience joy.

And it can begin to heal without ever forgetting.

Today, you are one.

You have an entire life waiting for you, and there are so many things I hope for you.

I hope you are kind.

I hope you are brave.

I hope you laugh often.

I hope you love your family fiercely.

I hope you notice the ordinary moments, because someday you will learn that they are often the most precious ones.

And I hope you always know how deeply you have been loved from the very beginning.

Someday, when you’re older, you may hear us talk about that summer.

The summer we said goodbye to Quinten.

And the summer we welcomed you.

It was the summer my heart learned that profound grief and extraordinary joy could exist in the very same place.

Your Uncle Quinten’s life taught me how precious time is.

Your life reminded me there was still so much ahead to live for.

What an extraordinary blessing you have been.

Happy first birthday, my precious grandson.

Thank you for every smile.

Every laugh.

Every hug.

Every moment of joy you’ve brought into our family.

And thank you, without ever knowing you were doing it, for bringing a little light into your Granny’s heart when the world felt so very dark.

I will spend the rest of my life telling you how loved you are.

And I will spend it telling you about the uncle who came before you, too.

Two beautiful lives.

Two very different chapters of our family’s story.

And more love than one heart should be lucky enough to hold.

Happy first birthday, Everett.

Granny loves you more than you will ever know.

Love always,

Granny