I know nobody wants to upset me, and I know I gave a long list of things not to say.
But I do wish we could talk about her sometimes. Yes, I will cry, but that’s ok, right? It’s like a dream that I woke up from, that no one else remembers.
Brady and I never did agree on a name so in my head I call her Sadie, since that’s our names together. And I picture her as a baby with chubby fists, that prefered to make noise by banging things than by talking, and a toddler who brought you her books to hear you say you like the pictures too, and a little girl who looked very serious when she tied her shoes and dragged half the backyard in, stuck in her hair, and a teenager who was very good at remembering peoples’ birthdays, and through-out her whole life, very very good at saying “no,” very calmly and politely.