You have been so strong, so brave, holding back your tears because you didn't want to cause your Mama to weep more. Hold them back no longer, Sara. Your Mama and I have wept our hearts out, and while we weep still, we wil be the brave ones for a while. Now, it is your turn.
You don't have to be brave about this anymore, Sara. I haven't been so. Your Mama hasn't been so. We miss your Memo so, so much. So weep Sara, weep. Weep because in your weeping God will bring you a blessing, a blessing of comfort, of fulfillment, and most of all a blessing of presence.
I remember the first time I met you. You probably have forgotten. It was three weeks after your Memo married me. The second week after that two of my grandkids came to spend the night. The next weekend you insisted you spend the night. Memo smiled about that, Sara. She smiled at your determination, even at that young age, that nothing would come between the love you and Memo had for each other. And nothing did, Sara, nothing ever did and nothing ever will.
Sara, if you're like me, you probably are having feelings that “I wish I had told her...” “I wish I had spent more time with her ...” I wish … If only ...” Oh, Sara, I wish I had said “I love you” more often. I wish I'd spoken more tender words to her when they wheeled her into surgery. For a good part of the last two months I've beaten myself up over that. So, I know how that can haunt you.
You're still young Sara. Oh, I know you've gotten your driver's license. I know you're not that little girl who came over to protect your relationship with Memo right after we got married. You're a young woman now, a young woman of beauty and poise and on your way to accomplishment. So, Sara, I'm going to talk to you like your Memo would, seeing as how you're a young woman and not a child. Memo used to tell young adults like you to “stop focusing on the woulda and the coulda. Spend your time on what's real.”
Here's what's real, Sara. You miss your Memo. Life will never be the same without your Memo. And you can cry buckets that she'll not be sitting in the grandmother's chair at your wedding, and she won't rock your babies. But Sara as cruel as that is, as unfair as that is, no one will ever be able to take this from you: Your Memo loved you beyond measure. What's important is not what we shoulda said to her, what we would do if she were still here. What's important, Sara, is her love for you.
Memo is dead, Sara. God help you and me, your brother and your Mama, but Memo is dead. Yet nothing will ever destroy the love Memo had for you Sara, nothing. Look at these pictures, Sara. See the love in her eyes for you.
Time will diminish our pain and our feeling of loss. But time will only magnify that you knew such a depth of love. And you will continue to know it. I suspect that, with time, when you do something of worth in life you'll experience that delightful smile she flashed when she was pleased with you. I expect that when you're wondering what path to take you'll feel her presence beside you.
So, Sara, weep. Weep as much as you want. And don't wait two months to let it go this time. And if you need any help you come over to Memo's house and we'll hug and weep together. But when the tears are cried out, when the sobbing is done and we're breathing normal again, I'll look at you and I'll see Memo in you and we'll hug and laugh because we were blessed enough to know that special, special love that came from your Memo.
I love you, Sara.
Now, about your grades ….