Your 3rd Angel Day is pounding on the door of Momma's brain this year - much more so than the last few years. What is it about this three year milestone? Is it that your brother's 2nd birthday precedes it by just a few days? A birthday you never got to celebrate?
Every day Momma is remembering exactly what we were doing three years ago. The food you ate, the programs we watched, the places we visited, the snowfall and temperatures. Everything. It's as if I'm reliving those final weeks with you all over again. I'll never forget that Friday when I picked you up from G'ma and G'pa's, stopped and got you french fries, then fed them to you one-by-one while we drove home. A rare Friday when Momma went into the office thanks to snow the day before. An anomaly I don't want to repeat.
At the same time, your little brother is blossoming into this pre-schooler who wants to talk and run and climb and give love/hugs/kisses - and is just plain fun. He's been asking about you, and I've been telling him stories about his big brother which has led to lots of "Connor" references out of The Pickle's mouth. Momma isn't sure how to navigate these waters but I think think this is the right course of action.
It feels like we are at a significant crossroads on this journey. Time to pick up our bags and look to the future instead of looking back and comparing. Time to stop confusing the time with you and the time with The Pickle. Time to realize we've ventured into new territory with a 2 year old. Time to stop believing that trying keep everything "the same" will keep The Pickle alive.
Because it didn't keep you alive.
I wish we knew how and why you died. Maybe, just maybe, there will be an answer someday. But for now, Momma has to live with "we have no idea."
Keeping things exactly the same has been a Momma-thing. A way to honor you. To tell you how much we loved - I loved - what we had with you. And still love so very much. Peanut, I am asking for a sign from you to let me know it's OK to break from these patterns. That when we stray from what you knew, it will be OK.
This has been a tough, but necessary post.
Peanut, I still talk to you every night and you know my heart. I love you, my sweet boy, to the moon - and back!