By Elena Matyas

A few months before Roxie’s second birthday, Doug & I were scrambling to find childcare. Referrals from friends were not working out. Doug searched through care.com and I scoured message boards at parks, indoor playgrounds, libraries and coffee shops.

From the minute “Eppy” walked into our home, Roxie fell in love. And by all impressions, the feeling was mutual. Their bond was beautiful. I could have been jealous but, instead, I was so thankful to have found a person who loved and cared for Roxie as she deserved.

I never suffered “working mom’s guilt.” We cherished listening to Roxie and Esperanza conversing in Spanish, watching our daughter soak up a new culture, being privy to a caregiver other than mommy and daddy. Plus, we had the luxury of knowing we could escape for an overnight knowing Roxie would be thrilled to have a sleep-over with her “best buddy.” 

Esperanza and her family are now and will always be family, even though Rox is gone.

On June 28th, Doug & I had planned a night out. Roxie was so looking forward to seeing Espy after camp. I texted her from Huntington Hospital. I only had the strength to write “Roxie is not well. We have to cancel tonight.”  

Though we no longer needed Espy on a regular basis months before Roxie died, and though she had accepted other work, we have yet to see her since. That’s not right of us. Not at all.

The pain we are going to share when we do see each other soon is hard to fathom. That’s not right either. But it is necessary. Because we love her. And always will. And love is never, ever easy.