November 24, 2011

Letter #63

Letter #63


Hey kid. I started referring to you as M from time to time, which I think sounds kind of endearing and wonderful. I like to draw little pictures of the lowercase m. I stamp it in my little journal and doodle it at work while I'm thinking through a project. Truth is, I'd like to scatter little m's and m phrases all over the city; on trees and sidewalks, on concrete walls, in the front cover of books, with stones in the river, with shells at the beach.

m was here.

Sometimes I wonder if I would have called you this if had you lived. Way to go M, I might have said. Or, happy Thanksgiving M. I always wanted a hip nickname when I was a kid, but unfortunately, all I got was juicy jackson. Hey juicy, pass me the ball! Ain't nothing hip about it. And then in dreaded middle school, one guy started calling me jacksypads. That was a long month.

Your big sister has been calling your mom and I "sweetie" lately. Sometimes when I call her name, she'll say, yeah sweetie? as if it's a completely normal way to respond to someone. I'm pretty sure you would have been added to her selective sweetie list. And I think she would have called you M sometimes too.

Well, today - on the eight month anniversary of your death - would have been your first Thanksgiving. I can just imagine you nibbling on a tiny piece of turkey, and posing for pictures with your buddy Lyla, or getting sideswiped by the older kiddos. If you were going to be anything like your parents, I think you would have had a grand time.

I normally spend the days leading up to Thanksgiving thinking about what I'm grateful for. It's a habit I got from your sentimental Papa Dennis, who always wanted us to share what we were thankful for. And even though you're not here, I couldn't help but to do the same this year.

I'm certainly thankful for you. I know this is complicated, but I'm so glad you're a part of my story, even if I can't always see it. For now, it seems missing you is mostly where I'm at. I'm thankful for your mama. I still can't believe she is all mine. I count my great fortune every single day. Her beauty and intelligence and strength is something that I see every day in your sister and miss every day in you. And your sister, of course, whose very existence feels like a miracle. She is simply perfect. I'm thankful for those family and friends who talk about you openly, for those who ask how we're doing, for those who don't ingnore or diminish what we have lost, for those we can be our whole selves with. I'm thankful for our new friends, who feel like a gift from you. The first of many, I hope. And I'm thankful for less important things like the movies and a job that allows me to work with my hands.

Even without you in my arms, even with the brokenness that I feel, there is much to be grateful for. Thanks for helping me remember.

Sometimes in the quiet mornings, before the sun has come up, when it's just the two of us, these little chats bring me comfort. I like to imagine the world consisting of just you and I, that I'm the only person on earth in these moments that is thinking of you, talking with you, picturing your face. There is a sacredness in this space my dear. Don't worry baby, your memory is safe with me.



Anonymous said...

That was so beautiful.

Today is gonna suck, isn't it? ;)

- Kar

Monique said...

I don't cry much anymore, but this brought tears to my eyes. I'm always touched my others who remember our babies alongside us. Hoping you have an okay holiday, knowing it's not how it should be. Margot. Margot. Margot.

Jes said...

Words can't begin to describe what an incredible father, husband, and friend you are Josh Jackson - and I believe that even at a wee 8 months old Margot would already feel it. She'd know she had been born into an amazing family full of love and life. I am thankful for you, Kar, and Stella each and every day. Missing M each and every day. This is a beautiful letter. Sending love from VA.

Laura Beck said...

this is so beautiful, Josh.
M, your sweet Margot, is thought about and remembered and loved.
This letter made me swell up with gratitude for my T, too.
Thinking about you and M and sending you lots of gratitude and love.

Mary Beth said...

Oh, sweet Margot. Sending you lots of love and peace this Thanksgiving day. This is such a sweet letter, I wish she was with you guys.

Nika M. said...

Sending you lots of hugs and prayers.

Catherine W said...

Her memory is safe with you but I do so wish that you and Margot were having your quiet little morning chats in person and that memory did not enter the equation.

I'm sorry that she is not here, enjoying the holiday with her family, I'm certain she would have had lots of fun and been loved on so much.

Wishing you, Kari and Stella a peaceful thanksgiving and remembering your precious Margot xo

brianna said...

We are here, a state away, thinking about you guys on this holiday and wishing so much that it was different than it is. We miss her too, though we never got to meet her, and we carry her with us. We talk about her a lot, you know. Just this afternoon with Leif's parents we were talking about her and how hard we knew it was going to be for you guys on this holiday/anniversary. I hope so much that you guys can find some peaceful and happy moments today.

As usual Josh, your writing is beautiful and compelling. I think you should add "writing a book" to one of your life's lists. Leif and I both chuckled at the thought of Stella calling you guys sweetie. She is an amazing little person,

Tash said...

I read your beautiful words and cried. Then my husband read your post and cried. Your relationship with Margot is heartbreaking and beautiful at the same time. I'm so so sorry for your loss. I've been following along for awhile now but never commented until now. I just had to tell you what a beautiful writer, father, husband, human being I think you are and I don't even know you. I can just tell.
Blessings to you and your family.

Hope's Mama said...

As you know we don't have the whole thanksgiving tradition, but I've loved reading all of your thanksgiving posts, and this was just about my favourite of the lot.
Sometimes, three years out, I'm able to meander through life and pull off being actually ok. Then I have a moment where bam, it hits me. She's dead. They are dead. And reading this posts was one of those moments. Then I'm on my knees again, shaking my fists, weeping. Because it is so wrong. Cruel. And unfair. And I want them back for us. I want Margot back for you. I want her to hear you call her little m. I want her to hear her sister calling her sweetie.
I just want her back.
This was beautiful, Josh.

Gwen Jackson said...

Love you guys. Missing Margot with you.

Bonnie said...

All I want to say is that you are a gorgeous soul and that there is so much heartbreaking beauty to your words. God Bless.

Josh Jackson said...

Thank-you all for your kind and loving words. It is so nice to hear from all of you, whether this is your first time commenting or not.


JoyAndSorrow said...

Wow, wow, wow! This is just precious. Yes, we are thankful, even though it IS complicated, isn't it? Great post.

Post a Comment