Today's posting is an early one, because I have so much on my mind. We had so many reminders of you yesterday - a little boy who bore a striking resemblance to you celebrating his second birthday party. He was even wearing your same little Stride Rite shoes. Another little guy who was just getting his walking legs bopping around. He had your same funny, purposeful penguin march. So unsteady yet confident.
I also got to watch a little boy reading a book with his grandmother. It was such a sweet reminder of the Mondays you spent with my parents. You read lots of book with grandma, explored the yard with grandpa (and watched fishing shows!), and was the king of their world on those Mondays.
You were a fan of books from Day One since we constantly read to you. As you got older, you started choosing your books for me to read, then you tried to read them all on your own. So independent. During the day it was always either The Very Hungry Caterpillar or One Fish, Two Fish. However, you had limited interest in the WHOLE book. Just certain parts. In particular, the two page spread in The Very Hungry Caterpillar where his Saturday bingefest is outlined in detail (one slice of swiss cheese, one sausage, etc.). You would point to each picture and look at me to repeat what it was. Over and over and over. Cherry pie. Cherry pie. Cherry pie. Cupcake. Cherry pie. Then you would laugh and laugh with your little head thrown back. It was in those moments I might have loved you most because I saw so very much of me in you.
Now that we're past the 2-month mark people are telling me it's time to move on, time will heal, it's just mind over matter. If only it were that easy. Mind over matter...I could ace that. I have all the information and facts. But this is my heart and soul. They have their own very specific, difficult healing process and I'm nowhere near the "upswing." It ebbs and flows. Some days are better than others. But I still have this gaping hole in my heart with ragged edges. The most I hope for at this point is for those edges to begin to smooth. But, this scar will remain forever a part of me, just like you.
Peanut, I long to hold and breathe you in again. In your absence, I hang on to the memories. And, they are all wonderful. Thank you for being such a joyful, happy presence.
I love you, Peanuckle.