ColletteApril 18, 2008 at 7:57 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments
One year ago — on Marathon Monday, to be exact — I went to look at an apartment in the Back Bay. I was in my third trimester, and the four flights of narrow, winding stairs in our Beacon Hill place (plus lead paint laws) were driving us out. I was met by Marni and her bouncing six-month-old daughter, Collette. Marni and her husband, Jason, were almost mirror images of Tim and me — they, too, had moved into the apartment just before Collette was born; Jason was a lawyer, Marni was in P.R. They loved the apartment and were sad to move, and once we decided to take over the lease, Marni and I were constantly in touch about how to install air-conditioners, the move date, her handyman. She let me pop by several times to measure for furniture and curtains and to coo at her daughter as I anxiously awaited my own. She gave me tips on Rainforest swings and Bumbo seats, pack ‘n plays, prenatal yoga, and bottles. Most graciously, she introduced me to some of her friends, who are now part of my neighborhood cadre of “playdates” and playground cohorts.
What I didn’t know at the time was that Collette was born with a heart defect. She has since had several surgeries and was really struggling. Yesterday morning, at 18 months old, she passed away. I write this only because I have to: I am consumed with my own brief memories of Collette and my pain for Marni and Jason. I think of little Collette being born and sleeping in the same room my Little Bug sleeps in now. I suppose I just hope that anyone reading this will throw out some karma for Collette and her parents. As one of Marni’s best friends said to me yesterday, through tears, “Collette isn’t suffering anymore; she’s in a better place,” and I hope her little baby spirit can bring us all some happiness and gratitude.
That’s all. I just wanted to write this for Collette.