"Hi" was one of your first, and most favorite words. Never said just once, but multiple times with varying emphasis. I never grew tired of it, because it was always accompanied by your sunshine smile. Lately I've caught myself mimicking your little "hellos" and, while it reminds me I will never hear you say it again, it does always make me grin.
Driving home from work this evening I was sitting in traffic with the sun attempting to stream through raindrops and clouds. How appropriate. Every song that came on the radio seemed to be speaking to me, helping me keep my chin up and remember you with love and joy. And some tears. My commute time has become my designated cry-time...the other drivers must think I'm nuts but it's a good time and space to welcome the sorrow.
I also did a quick self-check around how much I've changed and all the emotions I navigate on a minute-by-minute basis. The innocence is gone. My belief in a world that makes sense has disappeared. Because in that kind of world, you would still be here. Fright over the fragility of life. No matter how much you try to protect, nurture, love...it can all evaporate in a split second. And, a new toughness. Or, maybe it's strength. We've almost survived the first three months without you. Or, as I've heard it referred to, the first trimester of grief. We mark that day on Wednesday...and I vow to somehow celebrate your life on that day, and every other day.
Peanut. Hi. Hi. Hi. Hi! Guess how much I love you. To the moon and back. Times infinity.