Like I feel lousy. And for the first time in over 13 years, I'm just focusing on me and being sick.
I have no worries of passing it on to you, or trying to care for you during it, or whatever. I actually don't remember the last time I was sick. I mean, I did have Covid in October 2022, but since then, I don't remember feeling yucky, which is a real blessing. Since we essentially had no night nursing for the last year of your life, I was your nurse as well as your mom.
It's not Covid, I've tested. But ugh, I'm congested, my lungs feel tight, and I ache. Like I said, yucky.
In other news, I think we've got your headstone designed. It's beautiful. At the end of March we have to take down your temporary markes so I wanted to get it done. I don't know that it will be in place by then, but it should be close.
My sweet friend has been helping me with it. We've gone back and forth with several ideas, but when she sent me the latest version today, it just looked perfect.
My sweet boy, I miss you. It's really quiet here now (except I can hear your nephew crying downstairs). Jonny, Avanlee and Elend left to see her parents, Michael is at the school and going to play church ball, and Daddy hasn't made it home from work. I left early today because I felt so lousy. It's hard to focus and help others process hard things when you feel bad yourself.
When I got home mid-day, it was just before Jonny, Avanlee and Elend were leaving for the airport. Linnaea and Elend were chasing each other around the house and little Barrett was in his mommy's arms. It did my heart good to see them, the next generation, cousins playing together. But I also felt old.
We're going to be empty nesters this summer. That seems so strange! I mean, it happens, it's supposed to happen, but most people can see it coming from a long ways away. Somehow, I didn't expect it. Somehow, I thought you'd be here. I really couldn't imagine you not being here. And now, well, you know...
I did refresh all the batteries in my candles tonight. I need the light in the dark corners of the room. It's peaceful, calm, and brings solace to my soul.
I still talk to you every night. Your room is getting emptier and emptier. Eventually (maybe sometime soon) I'll get the carpet cleaned in there and we'll start putting furniture in. But I can still see you, sometimes, in there. You're part of me and always will be.
Miss you, little man.
Love you even more...
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