Hi Paige.
As you know, things have sort of been sucking lately. You would sort of think that I’d be getting used to this, but really not so much. You know I love rules, remember? All of my life, I have actually been a pretty serious rule follower. Make good grades, smart choices, blah blah blah. And, there are definite rules to making grief more manageable. Like if you think about the hospital, replace it quickly with a happy memory. Take a seriously deep breath before opening the Christmas decorations box. Do not watch live action video recordings under any circumstance. Don’t drink so much that you pass happy drunk and head into sad drunk (this one is easy for me because I just pass out right after I hit happy drunk). Get out of bed everyday. Let your other kids see you sad but not so sad that you scare them and can’t snap out of it. When people ask you how you are, just say fine because a lot of people are taken aback if you say “shitty”. I could really go on forever, it will probably be the subject of my future bestselling novel.
Today, I forgot a major rule: be very careful when cleaning out closets and don’t hang out too long in your dead child’s bedroom (that’s actually two). When your sisters couldn’t find a mutually agreeable activity today, I decided their punishment was that we were going to clean out their rooms. Then, their whining started to irritate me so I decided that they could watch tv while I just cleaned out their rooms. Every time they started fighting or came back to speak to me, their punishment was 10 minutes of cleaning with me. I know, it’s a tough decision . . . grief book or parenting book. So, I was cleaning out Haley’s clothing (which was mostly your stuff). Instead of the “band-aid rule”, I decided to pick up every piece of your clothing and remember a time when I put it on you or you were wearing it. I also found the old splint that Ms. Aurora made you for supination. And even though I can supinate just fine, I laid my arm where yours had gone. Then, I found that old cash register with the microphone and I remembered when you guys and the Bley girls got a huge pile of crap out and made a store on the deck. And, then Ms. Kim or I would use the microphone to say “Clean up on aisle deck”. (Editor note: Daddy just walked but the study and said “good God, not number 8″ meaning that I already had seven breakdowns today). I think I might move on rather than painfully relive my other 5 breakdown triggers.
I feel like there should really be a manual that guides me like on Beetlejuice when Alec Baldwin found the “Guide for the recently deceased”. Like: year two, month one: prepare for it to suck like it was just yesterday. Gradually learn to eliminate happy from your vocabulary because it will make your voice drip with bitterness. As you read this, you might be shocked to recall that I actually graduated from therapy. It’s not like I just stopped going, I legitimately got a certificate of sanity. It’s mind-boggling, isn’t it.
Well, I possibly worked some stuff out with this and can go back to whatever passes for normal. I am definitely sticking to my rules for the recently bereaved parent manual. Hilariously, today Haley yelled “that reminds me of Paige” every time I tried to throw away one of her old toys. She also began using two distinctive speaking voices, one that mimics me. So, when she said, “I really just don’t want to wash my hair tonight”, she then spun to the side and said in a higher tone “that’s okay, honey, you don’t have to” and then ran off to not wash her hair.
I’m thinking heaven is still going well for you. Could you please pass on my complaints to the perfect version of me that is with you. Maybe she could on some level convey to me the secrets of bouncing. As for you, I think you may have found yourself. That one is just between me and you, don’t tell your sisters 
I love you,
Mommy
