september 3rd

Above is a photo of my sister, Emilee, who would have been 32 years old today if she were still living. I think about her so much now, not just because her name is Violet's middle name, and not just because the twins have an aunt they will never know, but because she was only 19 months old when she died, so close to my own babies' ages. I truly believe that, even having lost my father at a relatively young age, there can be nothing, nothing harder than losing a child. I realize that Emilee's death has been somewhat in the back of my mind since the twins were born, part of the reason I take as many photos as I can and write down every milestone in ridiculous detail- savoring every moment. I like to think that my children will have some of her in them - maybe at least Oliver's strawberry blonde hair? Maybe Peanut's gapped teeth?

I was thinking about writing this post all morning, and I remembered how on the first anniversary of Emilee's death, and for every year since, my mom's best friend has sent her a pot of violets. A small, beautiful plant that lives on even after the flowers fade. How perfect that we have our own little Violet Emilee now!