The last several days have been filled with an odd anxiety. The kind of anxiety I suspect is only felt by those who have lost someone unexpectedly...in particular parents who have found their children the way we found you. The most innocent moments become reminders. Reminders that become signs, symbols, harbingers of death. And we are faced with a decision point - do you avoid those actions, those reminders? Do you scurry around them, hoping not to tempt fate? Or, do you stare them directly in the eye and defy your fear not knowing what outcome you might cause?
On Saturday Momma took a bold, painful step forward. I changed the picture on my MacBook's desktop. <sigh> The black/white picture of me holding you from your 1-year photos has been replaced by a Crayola-colorful picture of The Pickle. A picture that brings a grin to my face every time I open my laptop. A photo that reminds me how beautiful life still is, and how you are still very present in this new, amazing little boy. Still, the guilt was - is - overwhelming.
On Father's Day we hosted a large gathering of friends and family at the house. Your house. A house that has been shrouded in sadness and tears for so many months. A house that has stood silent in remembrance. A house that on Sunday shook with laughter, running children, shouting teenagers, and adults telling stories over sangria and cocktails.
Then, last night, Momma decided to outfit The Pickle in the green, froggy sleepsack that has been waiting, alone and unused in his jammie drawer for the last five months. You see, Peanut, froggies are YOUR thing. We've been careful to avoid frogs with The Pickle. To help him find HIS thing, his animal, his lovie. But last night I decided to "break the spell." After he went to bed, I looked out our kitchen window only to see two froggies staring right back at me. Terror filled my heart...TWO froggies? What could that mean?! Has Pickle joined his brother in heaven???? But then a sense of calm covered Momma like a blanket of peace. Letting me know, "Momma, it's OK. I'm watching and it's OK. I know you have to keep on living. I know. I hear you. It's OK."
Still, I didn't sleep a wink all night. And, was relieved when The Pickle was fine this morning.
Peanut, every moment of every day is filled with you. Every action is for you. Every thought and word is influenced by you. I talk to you constantly, and look for your guidance, approval, blessing. And I love you more than I ever thought possible. How much? To the moon - and back!
Love you, Peanut -
|The former desktop picture that still resides next to our bed, and in the kitchen, and in my profile photos...|
|and the new desktop picture of...The Pickle!|