She Made Me Run into Icy Cold Lakes

My Dearest Elira,

I don’t know how many drafts of posts I have saved. I have had a hard time writing here. I am writing in my notes, a lot, just not here. Something about writing love letters to you makes me feel the weight of it all. Some days words fail me, my love, and you out of all people would know that it’s rare for me to be in that place. But since you have been gone, I veer violently between desperately finding comforting words for my broken heart and blank spaces of nothing. Some days missing you is so extremely painful, I can’t find the words.

But, today, my love, today I woke up wanting to send you this message, this memory that has occupied my mind since I opened my eyes from my troubled sleep. Remember when we went up to Duluth to see your dad for the Summer? We packed up our van and we drove up there. We sang kids’ rhymes all the way up, laughing and joking around, no care in the world. We settled in the empty apartment like we were kings and queens. I planted beautiful flowers in the balcony, stuck colorful Pier 1 candles in my empty wine bottles, made lots of tabouleh, laid aimlessly on the sandy lake beaches and chased and fed gulls by the pier. I packed us lunches and we wondered the parks and beaches like the happiest people in the world. Nightly walks, beautiful henna designs on our hands, hair straightening (okay, maybe a burn or two that necessitated a trip to CVS because I am really bad at doing hair). Then, one weekend, I was in the mood for a good fish boil. So, we bought a tent, a cooler, packed it with drinks and off to Wisconsin we were, in search of adventure. Do you remember, Elira, at some point, I asked your father to stop driving and pull over? I opened my door and told you “let’s go, Elira.” Of course, you followed, running like crazy, taking our clothes off as we rushed to the icy cold lake Superior, screaming with excitement. Our bodies went numb just as we hit the water. We laughed and shivered but for a moment you and I, just living. It could have been the very last breath I took, in joy, fully aware that moment was life, our life together.

I have thought about that Summer a lot today, how much it meant to me to have you with me. You were only 10 but baby, larger than life, my companion, my inspiration, my muse. Arm in arm we walked the streets, got to know people in the community, explored farmers’ markets (remember the lotion!) and local Co-ops. We did it all, my love, loving life fully, no limitations.

I miss you, Elira, so incredibly much. Today, I will hold on to that spur of the moment run from the car to lake Superior. I will keep the memory of our two brave bodies in the cold water laughing with joy like we were invincible. And, in many ways the two of us were invincible, I truly believed that.

Your Ma