You were everywhere today. I think you knew Momma was struggling and decided to stage a Peanut Intervention in the form of one single-minded, determined, bright orange butterfly. Every time I stepped outside our house this morning and afternoon, there he was waiting for me. Within seconds, I knew it was you. "Hi Peanut!" You landed on my arm, my shoulder, flew around me and Henry The Puppy, and spent several minutes hitch-hiking on my hand. Even when I sat down in the middle of the yard to cry, you stuck by me. You landed right next to me, and waited me out...then you moved to a lock of my hair and flapped your wings, as if to dry my tears. And I smiled. Sorrow and joy, side by side.
My belief that these visits are you, and are my way of staying connected to you, provides my heart with a much needed lift. A glimmer of hope. Something positive to hang on to in the moments of intense sorrow. In my mind I picture my heart growing its own set of wings, gaining strength every day with support and hope from you. These wings are bright orange, like my Peanut Butterfly. While these wings won't "fix" the hole in my heart, I think they are helping to smooth the rough edges.
Darling Peanut, I am missing you with an intensity I haven't felt in a few weeks? Months? The ebb and flow of grief is something I was warned to expect, but it doesn't make it any easier when the dark times come knocking. I am trying my hardest to hang on to your joy, light, and happiness. The wonderful memories. All the good you brought to me and this world. But, I still want to hold you, hug you, kiss you, hear your laugh and watch your little penguin walk. I pray for those moments to visit me in my dreams tonight.
I love you so very much, Peanuckle. To the moon and back!