Thursday, September 29, 2011

Peanut's Lawn Care Service

Peanut -

Momma came home from work this evening to find Dadda outside mowing the yard with our hulking, industrial lawn mower.  OK, "yard" probably isn't the right word for what we's more like a 5-acre forest with some grassy areas.  But it was the absolute perfect place for us to play outside with you last spring, summer and fall.

That yard is where we took you to crawl in the fresh spring grass when you were 8-months old.  It's the same place where we took your 9-month photos.  And, where we set-up your Little Tykes the perfect-for-swinging tree outside your bedroom window.  It's where we sat on blankets last fall and admired the leaves changing colors.  Unfortunately, we never got the chance to take you sledding in that same yard, with its sloping hills.

Dadda reminded me tonight of the one time we put you on the lawnmower.  You were VERY unsure about the whole experience.  Skeptical enough, in fact, that you and Dadda barely made it through one lap around the perimeter before Momma had to rescue you from the giant, noisy, frightening monster.  (The lawnmower, not Dadda!)

If we do ever sell this house and move, it will be these locations, these memories Momma is most afraid to leave.  Will the memories somehow get stuck back here with the house?  Will they not be as sharp, as fresh, if we no longer live here?  Or, have I helped make them more everlasting by retelling and capturing them in writing?  The latter is my hope.

Peanut, Dadda and I enjoyed talking about you over dinner tonight.  I wonder...could you hear us?  I think so.  We are sending you all the love and hugs our empty Momma and Dadda arms crave to give you in person.  To the moon - and back.

- Momma

1 comment:

  1. Lynn,

    I am a friend of a friend. I follow your journey. I know in my heart and soul your peanut does hear you. Regarding previous posts, please please please don't let outsiders dictate your path. Healing will come, but your scar will never fade, and I'm sure you don't want it to. That scar is yours to share or to keep close to your heart, your choice. I think of your family (Momma, Dadda, Peanut, and Bean) daily. Please know that you are not alone, physically or spiritually.