Well, another Tuesday night. Which marks another week - another month - without you. Surprisingly, Tuesdays have lost some of their sting. Maybe that is part of the healing power of time. I don't have the same feeling of dread. Instead, I remember that last Tuesday night with love, and am so thankful for the memory.
However, I woke up today with such a sense of sorrow and loss, it was almost impossible to get out of bed. I started to question if I'd gone back to work too soon, if I'd allowed myself enough time and space to grieve. Then, I realized it was my sense of routine and responsibility to work that has been getting me motivated each day. Huh.
Thankfully, Dadda and I had time scheduled today with the doctor who has been helping us navigate your loss these last few months. She has been such a healing force in our lives, and has helped me find hope through the tears. In that safe space I have been allowed the grace to cry freely, share stories of you, and reveal the depth of our loss. And, today I discovered I can laugh through the tears. Dadda and I were marveling over all the adventures we'd had with you in 16.5 short months, including a visit to the pumpkin patch when you were only 4 weeks old. You poor thing...I put you in a pumpkin hat, and we sat you in the midst of a bunch of pumpkins on a hay bale. You cried and screamed. No wonder! I would have too! I've included a picture from that day - it shows how much force of personality you had even at 4 weeks.
I also caught myself singing in the car today. I haven't done that since before we lost you. Music has been one of my primary loves since...well, since I can remember. And, I've always been a singer. Music was also a love of yours. It lit you from within. But, recently I've lost my power of song. And I really wasn't sure if it would ever come back. But today it snuck up on me. I felt you in it, and actually turned around in the car to see if you were in the back seat grinning back at me. In a way, I think you were.
Peanut, thank you for being here, helping me heal. I feel you, even if I can't touch you. To the moon and back my special, special boy.