We Knew this Would be Difficult, but had No Idea

We cry ourselves to sleep at night, hoping the pain will go away, even temporarily. But it won't. The colors all seem to have disappeared and everything is now a shade of gray. There doesn't seem to be sweet or salty food anymore. It's all bland, even what we used to like. The world is filled with so much "stuff" but just so empty for us now, especially that big gaping hole in our chests. How can this be? How can everything just change overnight? We've heard and dreamt-up so many explanations, but just like the cancer that took Leo's life, we can't figure it out. Almost simultaneously Marina and I told each other recently that we're not afraid of death anymore. We are not ready yet because we have two absolutely precious, gorgeous, brilliant little girls, Anna and Nina, but if death comes tomorrow we have no fear.

Leo, the only comfort we have is that you are no longer suffering. Or maybe it's just our selfishness that we no longer have to see and hear your suffering. Your last weeks were filled with nothing but pain and misery. So much senseless torment, thank G-d you were taken quickly. At the same time, too quickly! You were only 3 and a half. Was your work here really done? Did you really achieve a lifetime's worth of accomplishments in that short a time? You are a little ball of energy, but even that sounds too fast, even for you, Leo. We just wish we could have a sign that you're ok now. Let your Grandparents know that you're all right, too. They miss you terribly and we know how much you love them.

During your last hours, I asked your Grandmothers, Shura and Bella, to tell you who was waiting for you so you would know whom to expect. Their names, how they looked, how they sounded, and anything else to help you find your way. At the same time, I think we all prayed that your Great Aunt, Great Grandmothers, Great Grandfathers, and everyone else was ready – you are not a "simple" boy! They needed to find big shovels and plenty of dirt where you could dig to your heart's content; lots of trucks, bulldozers, excavators, and skid steers to make it even more fun; and all your favorite foods. You're a little guy, after all, so they need to keep you safe and warm and comfortable until we get there, which hopefully will be a while still...

The worst time of day is when Anna and Nina go to bed, at about 8 or 8:30pm. Our house becomes so dark and quiet and empty. This was always our time with you. Another few minutes until you went to bed. Maybe just another episode of Bob the Builder or Thomas or that goofy Monster Truck video you like so much. And a bottle of milk; you love milk. Now, Mom and I collapse into bed, trying to relive the good memories. We talk to you and try to comfort each other, but the pain remains.

We love you Leo, always have – from your first breath until your last – and always will. Even though you aren't here with us anymore, we know that you're in a better place because nothing could be worse than what you went through down here. How sorry we are that we couldn't do more. We tried really hard; we did, but just couldn't save you. Please forgive us.

More importantly, we hope you continue to watch over Anna and Nina, just like when you were here. If Mom decides to put drops in Nina's nose, go ahead, tell her to stop, and pull her arm away, just like you always did. If I decide to punish Anna for getting undressed for no reason, tell me to stop. I will. We are far from perfect and need your advice. We need your spirit and never ending energy, your strength and your charm and smile.

Thank you, Leo, for having been in our lives, even for such a short time. We hope we were good parents, because you are a great son. Even in death, you are so full of life. We love you forever.