Our Little Birdie

Our dearest Amelia-

Exactly one year ago today we said goodbye to you Birdie. But you are here- we know that you are. In our dreams. You are the sky. You are the birds that fly in the sky- ever so gently and cautiously flittering from branch to branch. You were of this earth for 2 short years and yet you left a significant impact on every single person that came across your path. Did you know you left behind a legacy of strength and grace and pure love?

You were the 9th person in the world diagnosed with a rare metabolic disorder called Acyl-dehydrogenase 9 deficiency. No one could figure out what was wrong for so long. No doctor, no specialist, no surgeon, no one in the whole world. Your parents and family were puzzled. You had been born a perfectly healthy baby girl, yet within hours they realized something was not right.

Finally the diagnosis they had been waiting for came. It was the worst possible news that a parent could get- their worst nightmare- come to life.

But your parents, dear Amelia- well- you already know. They are two of the bravest, most courageous people I have ever known. It didn’t matter that the doctors couldn’t say exactly how long they could expect you to live. They didn’t focus on how much time you had left, never felt sorry for themselves, that they had been dealt a cruel hand. Instead, they praised and thanked God for you and focused on loving and inhaling you and living each precious moment that they were given with you.

They loved you in a way that was beautiful to witness. Everyone did. For a brief moment in time you were always there. At the beach on a summer’s night- bundled up in your stroller- sitting on the sand next to us- around the bonfire. At birthday parties like the Frozen party- where you stole the limelight from the birthday girl. At every family gathering and holiday- always smiling- filled with an inner radiance and light.

You never knew a life without shots, frequent hospital stays in and out of the emergency room, doctor’s visits, hooked up to your port- yet your soul seemed unencumbered. You emanated love and grace – not sorrow- not pain- not despair- not sadness. Instead, you knew love every single minute of your life- each one of us made sure of that and love you dearly we did- showering you with gifts, directing all of our attention to you, we’d pass you around from arm to arm and talk to you- “hello Mamas!” You learned to clap and wave and throw “besitos.”

And Then There Was Just Love

I’m surrounded by moving boxes. The house is bare. Surprisingly, I am very calm. I woke up this morning around 3 a.m.- sweaty and anxious. Fell back asleep and when I woke up, I felt God’s presence. And I became very calm. He was reminding me that he is right next to me- wherever I may go. Cue to a meditative prose that a friend had sent me the day before. It had read:

“Wading wearily through the debris of our sixth house move in 25 years, I found a slip of paper my daughter had taped near her bed. “Put off till tomorrow those tears…Because between now and tomorrow, maybe I, God, will have passed your way.” …And with every challenge, he inquires: What is it you really need to be happy? Is it this job? this house? These transitions are his way of guiding us to the door of our one true home.”

Thank you Lord. Thank you for the reminder. In so many ways.

These past few weeks have been filled with love. I am overflowing with love. Thank you sisters. Thank you family. Thank you friends. I have been processing all the events from the past few weeks and here’s where I am at.

My sisters really love me. Sometimes they get on my nerves. Sometimes I get on theirs. They can frustrate me to all end. But at the end of the day, who knows you better and calls you on your shit better than your sisters? Nobody that’s who. I am beyond blessed to have four- count ’em four sisters all with different, colorful personalities. Yes, God knew exactly what he was doing. We left behind the 17 kids we gave birth to and spent some much needed quality time together- just the five Sanchez girls. They took me out to dinner followed by a wine and painting class. Also, I discovered I am not a painter.