For some people - many people - it's been a long time since your death. Over two years...that's a long time, right? For others, it seems like yesterday. And for me, your Momma, it varies. Some days it feels like decades have passed because this journey is so exhausting. And some days I wake up and have to remind myself that you are gone. Most days, actually.
In the year after your death everyone gave us (me) grace. Lots of breathing room and space to be a jerk. But now...well...now it's time to re-join the human race. And WOW it is hard. Especially since we (Dadda) opened the restaurant. Momma has lost her safety net, her companion, her confidant. The only person unfortunate enough to get stuck with Momma on a constant basis is The Pickle. But our time together is intentionally spent laughing and sharing wonderful stories about you.
It is so hard. No one wants to talk about you because it makes them sad. But, now more than ever, I need to talk about you. I tried to bring you up the other day and was totally shut down. I feel like I am going to drown, alone in my grief while everyone is watching. "Oh, isn't she so strong?" "I wonder how she has survived?" "I could never have made it through the same loss."
Truthfully? I am floundering.
With steel in my spine for my Peanut and Pickle...it is time to be a better, happier Momma. I owe it to you and The Pickle. How am I going do this? Well, I am not totally sure, but we will see and follow through. I promise.
I love you, sweet boy. To the moon - and back!