Judson's Legacy

Deficient of Oxygen

Jud is enjoying his 2nd birthday party with his cousins.

Dear Judson,

As this year comes to a close, it blows my mind that I wasn’t able to spend even a single second of it with you.  My greatest desire remained unfulfilled.  With all the longing in my heart, with each yearning of my soul, with every ounce of strength I could muster, I was still unable to have even a moment with you. 

I ponder 2008 and realize that it quickly vanished and I am left holding a year of pain.  Every single memory, whether good or bad, is marked by your absence.  It was as though each breath was deficient of oxygen.  Much of the year is blurred by agony and my memory is muddy, but the constant sorrow is crystal clear.

I recall the severe ache with every visit to a park, every picture taken, every swimming excursion, every appointment with a doctor, every carousel ride, every trip on the train, every time Jessie was at her class at church, every time passing the helicopter outside the grocery store, every song Jessie sings, every “taster” I get from Trader Joes, every Taco Tuesday, every trip to the mall, every visit to a coffee shop, every trip to Disneyland, every experience at the beach, every time I see your name tattooed on my arm, every visit to the local farm, every experience at a petting zoo, every fountain, every McQueen or Thomas toy, every roly-poly, dragonfly, butterfly, and ladybug, every blonde boy, every newborn baby, every walk around Balboa Island, every song at church, every gift I give or receive, every children’s book I read, every windchime, every balloon, every Matchbox vehicle, every dandelion, every trip to a pet store, every visit to Daddy’s work, every gathering with your cousins, every time Jessie uses the potty, every Saturday morning when your Daddy leaves for coffee with just Jessie, every time your sister wears a piece of your clothing, every visit to your grandparents’ houses, every time I am with other children …

Judson, the list could go on and on because I literally ached for you every single moment this year.

Furthermore, birthdays, anniversaries, holidays, and one-time events were particularly excruciating; they served as glaring reminders that life goes on without your presence.  One such event that specifically stands out to me was when your cousin Abie came home from the hospital for the first time.  It was a sweet moment filled with incredible grief as I realized that this beautiful baby girl would never ever meet you, her big cousin Jud, on this side of heaven.  Abie is an amazing gift, probably conceived right around the time you died; her little life beginning while yours was ending.  And now, adopted into the family, she brings light and life; in many ways she is a symbol of God’s redemption.

And this is one way in which I want to honor your memory this next year…by keeping my eyes wide open to see God’s redemption in and through this pain.  Just as I see and feel you with every breath, Jud, while longing to actually see and feel you, I also I want to see and feel God, my Heavenly Father, while longing for Him in much the same way.

Though my desire for you, Judson, will remain unmet in 2009 and for the rest of my earthly life, I know God is at work in your story.  I don’t want to miss it – please keep teaching me Buddy Boo!

I love you tons and tons,

Jessie wearing Jud’s jacket at Taco Tuesday.


5 Responses to "Deficient of Oxygen"

  1. hh says:

    Oh, Christina, it’s so hard to read your letter to Judson….I can’t begin to imagine how hard this letter was for you to write. My heart aches for you every day and all I can do is pray for you…Mark and I pray so often for you guys for peace, comfort, strength, joy, and the knowledge and surety of God’s presence and loving arms around you and holding you up.

    I also just wanted to say that Jessie looks so beautiful in her brother’s jacket–he would be so proud to see her wearing it!–and with her adorable girly outfit underneath 🙂

    Love you guys HEAPS! Holding you close to our hearts and in our prayers as we transition from 2008 to 2009 and all that means for the Levasheff family.

  2. sabrina gavriilidis says:


    What an entry… once again, I am in tears. Judson truely is present in everything you do. I hope within the year 2009, you find just a little more peace. Can’t wait to see how much Jesse grows.


  3. Leilen Shelton says:

    I’m so thankful God gave you such a gift for writing and that you are willing to share it in your grief. Reading your blog grounds me, reminds me that life is precious and to live in the moment, and helps me to keep things in perspective. Keep writing. You’re not the only one benefitting from it.

  4. Ksenia says:

    AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!! All the best from Moscow where 2009 has already begun!
    And… meet my sweet boys as Santas!


    Elias (as I recognized, S in the end of is name is correct in English, without S – it’s in Italian):

    Happy New Year!!!

  5. Jean and Gary Butler says:

    Leilen said it all….love her heart…please never stop your writing….my heart aches today for my children.
    I so love you~
    Jean (and Gary)

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