On Sunday, November 2, 2014, my grand-daughter, MyAngel Kaymar entered the world at 1:53 a.m. She didn’t announce her arrival with a high-pitched scream or wail like her twin sister did sixteen minutes prior. Instead, she made a quiet subtle entrance. Then she wailed.

We’d known for months MyAngel wouldn’t be with us long. The doctors had delivered the news during the first trimester of my daughter’s pregnancy, yet I hoped for a different outcome. As a woman of faith I prayed until I heard the still small voice confirm the doctor’s prognosis. Then I accepted the pending outcome.

Sunday afternoon as I rocked MyAngel in my arms inside the NICU, with the feel of her tiny fingers wrapped around my pinky, I closed my eyes and mentally shared precious memories with her. I imagined MyAngel scooting around on the carpet in our family room. I saw her attempting to take steps and reaching for the glass figurines on my living room table. I felt her patting my arm and calling me Mimi. I envisioned my husband flying her in the air, as he’d done my daughter so many years ago. I saw joy radiating from her as she showed the latest masterpiece she’d made at school to me. I saw us shopping together and me teaching her the recipe to my famous chocolate chip cookies. I saw so many things.      

Then I began singing the words to one of my favorite songs – It Is Well. I chose that song because although the pain of letting MyAngel go is indescribable, I know she’s going to a better place and one day I’ll see her again. I sang until no more tears were left. Then I stroked her face and kissed her cheek and said, “See you later, MyAngel.”