My dearest Sugar,

I suspected that the holidays would be one of the more difficult periods to get through but I must admit, it’s proving more difficult than I could have imagined.  Our little Smoochiegirl is becoming more and more of a little person every day.  With each heart melting moment – decorating our first Christmas tree, her singing Jingle Bells all by herself for the first time – I am filled with equal amounts of joy and sadness.  These are the moments we were supposed to share together.  The moments that I know only you would appreciate as much as I do.

It’s all still so surreal.  Sitting on the TTC just yesterday, I started to cry for no apparent reason.  I know the reason behind it – it’s because I work so hard to be positive every day.  At work for my colleagues and clients and at home for Viva. When she’s old enough to understand, we will cry together. But for now, these firsts that I share with her will not be tainted by her mommy crying.

Despite the fact that she was only 18 months old when you passed away, she remembers you vividly and asks about you often.  A few times a week she tells me that she misses you.  And when I talk about upcoming weekend plans, Christmas plans, etc., when we go through the “who will be there?”, she always includes you on her guest list.  I gently remind her that you became very sick, that you died and that as much as you wanted to be here with her, you’re gone forever now.  These words break my heart, but I want her to know that you’re not absent by choice, that you fought so hard to stay with us.

We are now only one week away from Christmas and what’s most difficult is reflecting back on this time last year – and on Christmas day last year.  You had complained of stomach cramps for a few weeks, but given your lactose intolerance and frequent bouts of gas (sorry!), we didn’t think much of it.  The family pictures we took on Christmas day show a happy, loving family.  We were completely oblivious that a mere 6 days later, we’d find out that we had very limited time left.

I will do everything in my power to make this first Christmas that Viva appreciates a joyous one, but it won’t be easy.  I may dread New Year’s more.  Learning on new year’s eve, right before we turned the page into 2014 that you were dying has made me hate Dec. 31st.  As much as I’ve loved so many moments with Viva in 2014, I cannot wait to kick it straight into the past with a loud F*CK YOU.

I am forever grateful that you and I had nearly 9 years of great experiences together.  What makes me eternally sad is that Viva won’t know you.  Not having a positive father figure in my life, I was so very careful to find a partner who would be the absolute best father.  And you were.  Selfishly, I was looking forward to watching your relationship grow.  I knew you two would be inseparable and that there would be times that I would feel like an outsider, looking in on a relationship I couldn’t personally understand but always wanted for my child.  It breaks my heart that you were both robbed of this.  Your passing has forever changed me and shaken my belief system.

I am heading to Panama on January 1st for 10 days to explore various expat communities with the goal of moving there with our Little Love.  She’s growing up so quickly and I want to spend every possible moment that I can with her.  That’s what matters.  Careers don’t.  Cool parties don’t.  New restaurants don’t.  Moments with those you love do.

I wish there was a way to know whether you support this decision.  I hope and feel that you would but I know you would worry about us.  I don’t believe in God, but somehow I believe that you are now our guardian angel and will ensure that we are always safe from harm.

We miss you, love you and think of you every day.