Time Keeps Moving On

Hey Aaron,

I did get some things done today, not everything, but some.

I got your stuffed animals out. You've got a LOT! I'm going through and separating some, the ones that are really, really important, and putting the rest in your bed for now.

I cleaned out the minivan, but I haven't actually cleaned it yet. I even sewed up the rips in the sides of the seats that I meant to sew back when we got it ten years ago. It's been ten years next month. I just got the reminder that we need to renew registration, but it might not be here that long. It's time for someone else to have some freedom, I guess. It will be another tender point when that goes.

And your manual wheelchair and gait trainer are already loaded up to go to your school on Monday. Sigh...

Someone asked me today what I usually do on Saturdays, and it totally caught me off guard! I mean, I don't know... For so many years it was soccer or baseball, or the rush of the holidays in between those seasons. And when you were here, it was getting meds and things prepped for the next week and making sure you were taken care of. Right now, I'm still trying to go through things. But... I just don't know. (Maybe the house will actually get cleaned one of these days, and maybe not.)

We placed your temporary marker today. Daddy and I went and I cleaned up your grave. We put down the beautiful granite stone, and oh, it just made it seem more permanent.

Does that sound strange? I mean, it's not like there's anything we could do to undo things. There isn't much more permanent, at least until the resurrection, than death. If there was something that could have been done, you know I would have already been on it!!

When I think of that morning five weeks ago, I ache. And in many ways, I want to go back, go back and hold your hand again, tell you over and over how much I love you, and how grateful I am to have been able to be your mom. And just be there with you, because it still doesn't seem possible that you're gone. And I can't see you anymore.

I miss you so much. 

Five weeks since your heart stopped, four weeks since I last kissed your face...

I haven't dreamed about you in so long.

Are you busy? Are you happy? Do you miss me, too? Or is time not really a thing in heaven? 

Sweet boy, I love you so much. 

It’s hard to process all of my “firsts” without you when I’m still gutted by our “lasts.” 
I couldn’t fathom you not being here,
 and I always believed that we had more time.”

– Michelle Leroux