Dear Nie

While I of course couldn't take a picture of Nie, I knew for sure that where these cute bikes were, there she and her family were also. Aren't they great? I too, want a Madsen.

Dear Nie,

I saw you today. In real life, I saw you. I was walking down the sidewalk on University, children in tow, heading to my spot at the Freedom Festival's Grand Parade. And there you were. Standing next to Christian, who I knew immediately with his pilot sunglasses on. And next to him, was Nie.

I can't tell you how strange it was to not come up and say hello. To not kiss your sweet, terribly burned, cheek. To not gently hug your very small frame. To not thank you. To not tell you how in so very many ways you've touched my life. Strange to not say these things, but I did, so very really feel, these things.

So strange to see Cjane, Chup and the Cheif. To see Paige and her Denali husband. To see all of your children, who I immediately recognized. Cousins, aunts and uncles. All of those heads of gorgeous dark hair, with bright sprigs of red heads throughout your, very large, and amazing family. It felt like seeing so many friends from the past, and I wanted to jump in and greet you all.

But alas, I know you need your privacy. Of course you do. Right? So; I cried to myself, standing behind your beautiful clan, and I watched from a distance. There was much to be observed. I noticed how you were sitting in the back corner of your family. Where you could be protected by the others, yet not feel left out. How your children clamored to your sisters for their needs, and how it must hurt your heart so very much to not be able to meet all of their needs. How Christian sat at your side, keeping you company.

I saw you take a picture. Yes, one of Nie's beautiful photography shots. A picture of your mother, in the parade as City Councilwoman, driving by in an old restored car. Your smile was huge. I was so proud to see you hold your camera. I know how hard it has been for you to gain the strength of such a feat. You are amazing. You have come so very far, Nie.

While I watched, and cried. I just couldn't stop thinking of how you have reminded me to be a better me. To cherish every moment. To be a better mother, to give my children daily experiences and memories. To take care of my body and live healthily! Since I started reading Nie, since the accident, I have lost 50 pounds, much attributed to you. You make me remember that I only have one body, and I only have this time with my children once. You have helped me keep a record of my own everyday life, that I hope my children will one day cherish.

You have reminded me that how much our Heavenly Father loves each and every one of us. You have shared the gospel, without any hesitation - to the world. You have blessed and changed so many lives. I hope you know this. The Scout Master prodded me to tell you these things in person, but I just couldn't. Maybe someday. Maybe not with hundreds of people around. But

someday.

So Nie, on this Day of Independence, I wish you a very happy one. One, for you, so very, very different from last year. Last year this time, you had just six weeks before your life would be altered, forever. And while I'm sure that most days you don't want to get out of bed. That those days you cry in the shower and yearn for days past, know that you are loved. That you have shared so, so much of yourself and your life. You truly inspire me daily.

While you don't look the same anymore, I can see the beginnings of what the new Nie will be looking like in times to come. And you are beautiful. Inside and out.

So, all in all, Nie. I am so, so sorry, honey. I can't not tell you how terribly sorry I am that this has happened to you and your darling family. Or how very thankful I am that you have allowed me, and sooo many others into your life.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Kisses.

Teresa