Good Things to Come

Today my daughter Bekkah would have been 27 years old. And in this anniversary season of her death and birth, I’ve been thinking and dreaming about her a lot lately.

I wonder how she would look as an adult, what clothing styles she’d prefer, if she’d be in a relationship, if she’d still be begging me to buy her a car to drive. In my dreams she’s often doing “normal” things that a person with Down syndrome might not get to do: driving that blue convertible she requested her last Christmas with us; getting married and having “lots of babies;” and baking cakes for her friends.

The what-ifs still bother me. What if I’d not left her with her dad and grandma during spring break? What if I had spoken to her the morning that she died? What if I’d not gotten sick and given her the flu? What if she didn’t have that last surgery? What if I’d taken more steps to protect her? Even though I’ve dealt with the answers in therapy and writing, these questions beat me up in my sleep.

This weekend, on the 12th anniversary of her death, I had the recurring nightmare that has haunted me for years. I find her with her dad and grandma, and she asks me, “Why did you leave me?” “Where have you been?” “Do you not love me?”

I reassure her over and over that I didn’t leave her and tell her the words I whispered into her ear right after she died: “I love you more than anything in the world, forever and ever.”

The dream, like always, clung to me all morning, like humidity lingers after a summer storm. And I cried, like I just lost her all over again.

I think about the prolonged hug she gave me when I left her that spring morning in 2013—heartbreaking in the moment, and later almost like an omen. I felt in my soul something was not right. Would never be right.

But so many things ARE right in my life now. And it’s because of Bekkah and the courage she gave me to step into my fears and live like her—with honesty, empathy and full abandon.

I’m excited about new ventures to come this year with my Lucky Dog Press publishing company that will help others who struggle with life altering trauma. It’s all because of Bekkah.

I love you sweet girl, forever and ever.