Letter 25
November 24, 2018
Dear Jesse,
It’s been 308 days since I last wrote you a letter.
308 days of immense movement and change, both stretching my emotional and mental flexibility.
308 days of choices that have led me right here to this moment as I type this very letter.
In the last 308 days I’ve done a lot and certain experiences have taught me the most about myself, about life, about love, about my purpose.
On March 6th I stood on a stage in front of an entire highschool and publicly told our story for the very first time. This dance that you and I are crafting, it’s never slowed down on it’s own. Only when I’ve sat out to catch my breath and regain my footing for the next round. I admit there have been times I’ve left you standing there waiting longer then I intended. I admit I’ve allowed the busyness of my life to keep me sitting on the bench tied up in life’s details and responsibilities.
On May 12th of this year I took a huge leap and opened up a flagship store for The LB brand… but you already knew that.
You, our mother, Dylan, my story, it was always woven in the details. Thank you for playing your part in sending me those meant to come my way and play their role in this endeavor. I’ve learned so much about my life, myself, my purpose, and the relationships that surround me through this experience of having a store. I’ve learned so much more about fear and risk and connection and the unexpected.
The most important thing I’ve learned though, through all of it, is that self care and resilience go hand-in-hand.
You cannot successfully have one without the other.
You cannot expect yourself to be resilient if you are not taken care of. There’s a huge difference between resilience and survival. This is not the first time I’ve had to learn about the well in which something springs from has to be number one in the order of things.
August 21st.
The most life changing day I’ve had yet this year.
Love has brought Andrew and I a son and his name will be, Sailor.
This dance my son and I have been doing for 18 weeks now, my god, it has been reflecting so much back to me, especially the process that a mother and child create together while she carries a baby. Pregnancy has been a time of deep self spirituality for me, a time when I can feel the connection to the unseen, but also where the cycle of life has been front and center in my process. I lost our mother just three months before I found out I was pregnant with Dylan. That pregnancy, our dance as mother and son, the birthing to bring him earth side, it was a journey only he and I experienced.
There is a magic in the process of a woman creating, sustaining and growing a life inside her body and then birthing her child into the earthly realm. Birth has the capacity to draw a woman deep inside herself and tap into her own divinity like nothing else.
Since finding out about, Sailor, and experiencing the gift of a new life again, our connection after your death has been front and center in my mind, my heart and my emotions.
But why?
I didn’t lose you three months ago like I lost mom in my first pregnancy. You and I have been on this new path for close to 5 years. Why am I feeling as though your so close to me I could practically reach out and hold your hand?
The ancient Chinese philosopher, Lao Tzu, said,
“Life and death are one thread, the same line viewed from different sides.”
One thread, Jesse.
The same line, Jesse.
The place in which my son, Sailor, is created from is the place in which you returned to on February 9, 2014.
The place every one of us will return to at some point.
The place that is separated by just a thin veil. I’m feeling the connection between life and death more then I ever have before in my life. The absolute beauty in the gifts your death has given me because I’ve allowed myself to lean into it. People have often said to me throughout these 5 years,
“You speak of your brother as if he’s right here with you.”
They’re right, I do, because you are, Jesse. Our connection has taught me about love, real love. Even in your choices and horrific death, you just about shook the ground I walked on to get my attention and establish our connection after your physical death. To show me that you had only sailed out beyond the limit of my sight. To show me that we had healing work to do together, simultaneously, from both sides of the horizon. To show me that we have a partnership in this life to not just heal and transform ourselves, but in our family, in the lineage that runs through us.
In a way, I’ve felt our brother and sister bond much more powerfully once you sailed out past the horizon. There is a gratefulness in my heart, an understanding that me losing you physically the way I did, would ultimetly prepare me for the things to come in my life.
Elizabeth Kubler-Ross said it beautifully,
“A boat exists on the ocean, even if it sails out beyond the limits of our sight. The person in the boat has not vanished; they are simply moving to a different shore.”
