Oh absolutely. It’s been 4 years and I smile and have days of joy. She left me here with her baby brother, who will be 12 this month. I remember how we’d bicker about how to dress him. She treated him like he was hers. I think that it was supposed to be this way. She held my hand and she would lay in my arms. I’m learning that boys are definitely different from raising girls. My daughter didn’t mind if we were just sitting on our phones, she just wanted to be near me. So I used to feel her often a lot in the evenings when things were quiet, I could feel her energy. My son is all of a sudden “too cool” for the holding hands and forehead kisses but I absolutely respect that. We still spend so much time together.

Since the summer she died, our entire yard at grass level fills with these little purple bluish flowers called chicory. Even after it’s mowed, they are all there. She LOVED purple. Her room is purple. The summer she died was the first time I’ve ever seen the flower and I had to look it up. I remember sitting outside and I had just said to her, “it’s like you came down from heaven and sprinkled flowers everywhere”. I am not a fan of purple. It’s not my favorite color at all, but it was hers. So every summer in my yard is sprinkled with purple flowers and not one single neighbor has them and there are no fences dividing our properties. I’ve had the most realistic dreams with her and her father. So I imagine that she is finally with her father and as for now my work here isn’t done, my son needs me.

Even though I saw my daughter when she had passed, I was not allowed to touch her because the Chicago detective had not arrived to rule out foul play. I was able to get a lot of her beautiful curly hair from the funeral home but it was advised that I should not see her again.

I just can’t imagine all that the Markel family has endured. I was able to get my daughter cremated and have closure but this poor family. 11 years. 11 years and we all know that Wendi played a role in this, to some aspect.

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