I’m sitting in the office now,
With plenty to do, but first I must write you this letter
Sean,
this is harder to write than I thought, even though I’ve been writing it in my head while I was mindlessly performing my diet aide duties. My voice is calm, my hands are weak, my fingers have no dexterity and my center of gravity has dropped to my feet. It has been an honor to have been part of your family. You made all of us special. First and foremost, I thought about all you have done for your parents; when I saw you this week, it was your parents good nature, pure dedication, fun disposition, and full gratitude that surprised me. But it didn’t really surprise me, they have always been that way for you but what surprised me that night was how obvious it was that you were the source. Your family has been through more than most and some might not have made it but I credit you with holding them together. Of course, they may disagree but you definitely were the moon anchoring large water bodies. I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately sean, especially when you were staying at the hospital where I work. I was so excited to share what I love about it here with you, I wanted your stay to be extra comfortable, it turned out you were an easy patient. I thought about all that this surgery would allow you to do. The movies you could go see with my dad, Avatar especially. The classes you could take at the community college. Playing games comfortably with our cousins. And most of all it would mean you could travel to Ireland! I was feeling optimistic about your future and your sense of being. It has been hard to watch you become more quiet at family dinners, not as interested in talking with cousins or playing games around the table. Not that I blamed you but more that I blamed myself for not knowing how to engage you. I remember our childhood at grandma’s, we would run around that yard of hers for every game possible and you were out there for all of them. You had a great sense of humor. You were smart and had two cute little sisters. I even remember you as a baby, I must have been around 3, it is one of my earliest memories of grandma’s house. We were in the kitchen, the quiet golden afternoon softness sort of kitchen. I really only remember what the kitchen felt like and that you were a baby in a baby carseat. Thick dark hair maybe, but there is also a picture to prove it. Your parents never missed a beat; they never let anyone feel sorry for them or for you, why would we? Sean, you added a rarely developed layer to your two younger sisters and fierce courage to do what’s right in your mom and you meant the world to your dad. I cannot even imagine how they will cope without you; their daily habits that included you but I do know that they are all incredible human beings because you were their family. You made amazing parents out of your mom and dad and made courageous, smart, compassionate women out of your beautiful sisters. You've left this world a better one. You will be missed, none of us were ready to say goodbye, but you will not be forgotten; even down to your little great niece, Isabella, who met you first out of all of her cousins. That night we visited you in the hospital when she was so shy, she repeated your name over and over on our way in and out “. . ean” “. . ean” “. . ean” (and she still won’t even call me by anything) you are special to her too. We can all but know that you are at peace now, you are in Ireland.
i love you, sean martin
