Dear Abby,
I don't know who you are anymore. I am positive that the Abby I love is in there somewhere, but lately I've been having a hard time finding her. The new Abby is just too much for me to handle. I really need you to come back to me. Soon. I know that it is normal to have an 'angry' phase during a neurological recovery, but your anger and frustration just keep evolving. As do mine. We don't make the best companionship right now and that makes me very sad. But you have to understand how much your behavior has drained me, both physically and mentally. I am sorry that I don't understand what your actions are trying to tell me. I would do anything to make you happy, but I feel like my efforts are of no use. So sometimes I don't even try. I'm sorry that I am slow to accept invitations for play dates with your friends and cousins. I know you love to be around them, but it is just too hard for me. It is incredibly painful to see them using their tiny bodies so effortlessly while you sit there struggling to move. I wish you could talk to me. Then maybe I would remember how to interact with you. It's hard to entertain you when I don't know what you are thinking about. I am sorry that your brother is so unhappy these days. I know his constant crying bothers you - it bothers me too. But he doesn't know what is going on. He gets bounced around from sitter to sitter while I take you to your never ending list of doctor's appointments and therapy sessions. This is hard for him too. I am sorry that I can't give you what you need to be happy. And I am sorry that you can't give me what I need to be happy right now either. I try to remember who you really are: a special daughter of our Heavenly Father, my own flesh and blood, and a three year old girl who doesn't understand why she can't do the things she is telling her body to do. But you make it very difficult sometimes for me to see you as such. Please, Abby, come back to me soon. I miss you terribly.
