September 15, 2010


I wore my elephant necklace today. A woman said she liked it, and I got to tell her that it was in memory of my daughter. It is so great to say those words out loud: my daughter.

Because I have a daughter, you know.

I write about her, and I think about her all the time; but nobody wants to talk about her with me. I've probably only said her name out loud a handful of times. If she was still here, I'd have said it a million times by now. Ailis! Ailis, Ailis, Ailis, Ailis, Ailis. Lissie-doll. Baby A. Lissie-my-Lissie. Li Li.


I don't get to hold her, or brush her hair, or take her picture. I don't get to dance with her in the living room or sing with her in the car. I don't get to read her favorite books aloud, or watch her play.

I just wear this necklace with an elephant on it, a necklace I bought for myself, and hope that someone asks me why.


  1. I get to tell people about my babies whenever they tell me my necklace is pretty. Today my cousin's son and daughter were pointing at it and saying pretty it was all I could do to not cry in front of them.