Today (and yesterday) have actually been pretty good.
I mean, I still miss you, but it's been more of a dull ache, a longing. Less of a torment, an agony.
I'm still kinda numb. I'm sure that helps.
Today at church, a friend stopped me on the way out and asked if I was okay. She then mentioned that she hadn't ever heard many of the stories told at your funeral and would love to know you better. She asked me to call if I wanted to talk about you because she wanted to hear.
I feel like I talk about you so much that I worry I'm bugging people. To be asked to share is such a blessing.
We're still trying to sell your minivan. I'm hoping to give someone else the mobility and freedom you enjoyed. I'd get you up in your wheelchair and ready to go, and you would be giddy. You loved getting out and about. One of the ways i knew you were struggling the last two years is that you would actually sleep sometimes in the car. Prior to February 2022, it didn't matter how tired you were, how late you'd stayed up (or not slept at all), if you were in the car, you were awake.
I'm so grateful we had it for you.
My sweet boy, you lit up the world around you, not only for me but for so many more. Many didn't even ever meet you in real life, but knew you through social media. There are children alive today because you were, and others who have already gone on but lived for a time and made memories with their families. Others knew you well in the hospital where they took care of you, and also played and laughed with you. You were such a blessing, and still are.
You lived more in 13 1/2 years than many do in 80.
How blessed we are for having known you. How did I get so lucky as to be your mom?
"It is not length of life, but depth of life."
Xoxoxo
ReplyDelete