There is only one person that I wish to see.
I wish to be able to hold her, just one last time.
To have her look up at me with those captivating brown eyes of hers.
To see her smile.
I wish I could feel the weight of her in my arms, just for a little while.
To have her reach up with those chubby arms of hers.
To have her lay her head in my arms, as if that is the most secure place in the world.
December 7th, 2009: I held Bella for the very first time. And I vowed to never let go. Ever.
December 7th, 2010: I held Bella for the very last time. And I had no say in it. Absolutely none.
The irony.
One year. I was given one year.
I can't say that I wasted time because I assure you, I didn't.
I held onto that little angel from the moment they gave me the go ahead.
I just wish that I could have had more time. Even just a little bit.
Who am I kidding? I wish that I'd had forever. I wish I'd had a lifetime.
Bella's family from her dad's side (or our family because to me they will always be our family), decided to have a memorial bench placed in the cemetery. It was a beautiful gesture, and I can't begin to express in words how grateful I am. Everytime that someone passes by that bench, they will be touched by the memory of Bella. They won't know her story and they won't even be able to imagine how much she means to us, but they will think of her, even if just for a second.
When I was visiting Bella today, I saw a woman with two men walking towards Bella's bench. They stopped in front of it and just looked for a while. The woman said, "This bench is new, and look, it's a child." The men nodded their heads and began to walk away. I watched as she stared at the bench for a little longer. I wanted to tell her, "Yes, it is a child. She's my child." But I didn't. I spared her from the tears that were slowly starting to form in my eyes.
I'm glad that the bench is there. I know that every day when someone passes by that bench they'll think of my Bella. Even if just for one second.
