I drew a bath tonight in my newish, clean, white tub. I filled it full with steaming water. I measured two heaping tablespoons of Epsom salt I keep in a mason jar on the shower shelf. I burned a bunch of sage and a candle and played a meditation melody of music while I floated in ecstasy, clearing my mind of the week’s stress and the day’s distractions.

Minutes into my soothing soak, I found myself sobbing, mouthing, ‘I promise,’ over and over and over.

I realized, as the tears streamed down my sweat-stained brow, into my bath-soaked hair, that I was talking to both my angel in Heaven and my angel on Earth.

My bath, in the relaxed state that it often induces, has become somewhat of a grief sanctuary for me. Tonight, as I became relaxed, and thought of my two beautiful boys and what they mean to me and what I mean to them, in my most vulnerable state, the one thing I need them to understand is that I will fulfill my promise.

To my angel in Heaven:

I promise, no matter the challenges I face on this Earth, and no matter how difficult each day is without you, I will do everything in my power to get to where you are some day, some how. I may not be good enough now. I may not be the amazing soul that you were on this Earth. But some way, some how, I will do whatever it takes to do what I can to be the best version of myself to get to where you are when it is my turn to cross over.

To my angel on Earth:

Buddy, I know your Momma is not perfect. And I know we have a long way to go. But I love you so much. And I promise I will try every single day to raise you to be kind, and smart, and confident, and loving. And I will remind you, every single day that you walk this Earth, that no matter what you do, no matter how you act, no matter where you are, that you are loved. You are so loved. And you will always be loved. I promise you will know, you will always be loved.

And I hope and pray, that is enough.