These holiday weekends are too long. There is too much empty time and space to fill, thinking about everything we should be doing with you. No matter how much "stuff" I pack into the long weekend, it still drags on and on and on...and little reminders of you creep into my heart and brain in the silent, still moments. Like this evening as I sat on the couch, I caught myself thinking, "I should be playing on the floor with Peanut right now, reading The Very Hungry Caterpillar, listening to his Disney fire engine siren blare, and that crazy Handy Manny toolbox play songs over and over." Instead, it was just me, the ceiling fans and the television. <sigh>
I miss the structure of our days. The routine. The things I could count on. Since that awful day in January, there is very little I "count on" anymore. I miss having my life revolve around YOU. I don't want life to revolve around me anymore. I had 35+ years of that. Now it feels so...hollow. Empty.
One of my favorite weekend activities once you started on food was cooking for you. Every weekend it was something new. At first, steamed veggies and fruit, all pureed and blended in interesting combos (apple + avocado = bliss). Then we moved to pastas. And, finally, meatballs, chicken fingers and other yummy Peanut finger foods. It was so fun trying out new recipes while you watched, then letting you sample the goods. You were an easy audience since I honestly can't think of one thing you didn't like. Oh. Wait! Maybe green beans. But, otherwise, you were a VERY food motivated Peanut. As the picture I'm sharing from last spring shows, your really, really loved meal time!
Peanut, I'm missing you a lot tonight. The very sad times seem to ebb and flow, and I anticipate this evening is going to be tough. That's OK. It's the tears and grief - the tears of love, in particular - that keep me feeling connected to you. And I know the tears are also a huge part of my healing journey. So tonight I embrace them as I think about you, and send you all my love, hugs, and kisses straight up to the moon - and back. Oh, how I love you.