Today has been a hard day. In fact, the past several days have been extra difficult. This seems to happen around and after the 2nd of every month. The time you were here went far, far too quickly. Now the days drag on so slowly…and are filled with so much down time. Daddy was at work all morning. As usual, Lucas was mad at me for being there instead of his beloved Daddy. The house was quiet. I don’t like when our house is quiet. It is eerie. It is scary. It is lonely. When it is too quiet, I find myself straining to hear your voice: coos, laughs, cries…anything. But, I don’t hear you; even when I hold my breath to be extra quiet. As I catch myself doing this, I remember, you are gone. That cruel reality check always makes me want to scream…break things…fall on the ground and thrash around. I have had to talk myself out of giving into those urges countless times. I fear that if you are watching me – which I so desperately hope you are – you would feel badly. I don’t fear, however, that you would think I was weak. I am weak. I am tired. I am sad. I am scared. All the time. Everyone continually tells me that I am “…doing so good“. First, I want to lean over and punch them as hard as I can. Obviously they don’t see my insides – my empty heart and my broken soul. They don’t drive in the car with me and see me cry every single time I am alone in it. I look in the rear view mirror 100 times a week – only to see your empty carseat base, fun mirror, and your blue & yellow riding hat from Grammie. Clearly they don’t see me and Daddy sit in silence, on opposite sides of the couch, every night, as we stare at the t.v., which is on, but not being watched. Neither one of us dare asking what the other is thinking…because the answer is obvious. And they certainly must not see me walk into your room each night before bed, first thing in the morning after willing myself out of bed – – or the countless times in between – – just to fall over your changing table and scream into your pillow. I haven’t yet gone into your room without crying. I miss you so much, little boy. But, despite the pain of your absence, I find comfort there. As I spend time in your room, I don’t have to close my eyes to picture you perfectly everywhere I look. I reach out for you, I hold your invisible fingers, and often sit in the glider to rock your ‘spirit body’. And, then I want to say, “By the way, you can’t do good.; you can do well. Fuckwad.” But, I do nothing – I say nothing, because as I said, I am too weak.
To drown out the silence, I started to overhaul the house. I didn’t stop for four hours straight. It was bittersweet; like everything we do or don’t do these days. It felt so good to purge, organize, de-clutter. We have so much useless stuff in this house. It is amazing how it all got here, or what I was thinking when I bought it in the first place. But, I was thinking the entire time, “I shouldn’t be able to do this. It’s a Saturday morning. I should be cleaning up Paxton’s highchair tray, and little plastic dishes, and teeny tiny spoons from a messy breakfast. I should be doing loads and loads of laundry chocked full of little boy clothes. I should be taking you to Nana’s, Lala’s, Grammie’s – – whoever was complaining the loudest that they wanted to spend time with you today. And, I should have plotted just the seamless timeline in which this would all coincide with your afternoon nap, so you’d be all ready for playtime with Daddy when he got home from work.
I found something in the attic that made my heart stop. I have spoken of it to several people, many times since you showed me the first of many double-rainbows this summer. I didn’t know, however, I still had it. In the dusty bin I almost didn’t open, there it was. I believe Lala or I got it from a pre-school teacher? Nonetheless, it was one of our favorite things when we were little. (Despite the fact that it androgynous in nature – a pin, a picture, a coaster – and that it’s worth less than five cents.)
I brought it straight down to your room and put it on your dresser. I hope you like it, Little Diddy.
You are with me every second of every day. Not a moment goes by that you are not on my mind and in my heart. I will never stop loving you. I will always be your Momma: you will always be my baby. Did you see me today?
Stay with me, sweet boy.