I stopped by Westlake today and picked up Linnaea. It's concert week which means Deborah is tied up there until late every night and Linnaea isn't nearly as much help as she thinks she is. Since I work just down the road on Tuesday and Thursday, I go back after and rescue both of them. 😉
But anyway, she missed her mom almost immediately and was sad on the way home, so I handed her my stuffies from my dashboard, plus the two that don't fit and are kept in the glovebox.
They kept her busy for a little while. But then we talked about feelings. I told her it was okay to be sad, because when we miss someone it's because we love them. And when we're sad, we cry. She asked where my mom was (because that's her frame of reference, that's who she was missing) and I told her my mom is all the way in Arizona, and I miss her. And I miss you. She said she missed you, too, and her mom, and her dad and Barrett 'cause they're a family and are supposed to be together.
Yeah, families are supposed to be together. And I have faith that we will be.
Today was an "okay" kind of day, Aaron. Getting going was a little rough, but no rougher than it has been and not as bad as many days. I was worried about taking her to the cemetery to pick up your things tonight; I worried about how she would take it.
But it didn't seem to phase her at all. She helped gather your things, and then she wanted to gather them for other people. Oops! I persuaded her that we needed to just do yours. She really was pretty matter of fact, like she was when she asked "where are we" when your room was cleaned out.
We are so blessed to have her in our life, and Barrett and Elend. And I'm so excited for your next nephew to come, but hopefully a few more weeks away.
I'm trying to be open to my feelings. There's grief and pain, but also comfort and sometimes glimmers of joy. They kinda all get mashed together: joy and hope and sorrow and wonder and anger and love and maybe even excitement (sometimes).
I miss you, kiddo. I miss you so much. It's very strange to pick up your stone and flowers from the cemetery and put it in my car. When I look back, it is so bare. And honestly, there aren't a lot of stones right by you anyway. The plots have been purchased but not needed yet.
It comes in waves, Aaron. Saturday was hard, Sunday was okay. Yesterday I completely broke down and lost it. And today, it's not as bad, at least yet.
I'm starting to find my sea legs; I don't like it, but I'm learning to live with it anyway. I mean, it's not like there's really another option. I hope you're looking down and know how much you're loved. My precious, precious child. I love you.
“Often the test of courage is not to die but to live.”
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