My Funny Valentine

Dear Aaron,

This is weird.

Or maybe I'm weird. (Okay, yeah, let's go with that one. It's not new.)

I don't know. I alternate between lots of energy and gotta keep moving; and what would happen if I just stayed in bed, or went for a drive instead of going to work and didn't tell anyone. 

I try to stay busy; I try to stay focused. Or maybe just I'm just avoiding.  I mean, I do go to work and I think I do okay there. Some days are better than others. I even mopped the floors yesterday. I try to be a good mom to adult kids. I mean, you're the only one who's not an adult, and you don't really need me anymore. They don't either, not really, but I do what I can to make their lives easier.

But I still need you.

How is that fair??  

Your Valentines are out at the cemetery (there's been some drama with that, but I'm not ready to get into it) and they look beautiful. But still, stark and somehow sterile, at least in comparison to the joy you brought to life. 

It's dark and I miss you. Nights are still the hardest and I suspect they always will be. 

I miss you, my funny Valentine. 

Love, 
Mama

“A beautiful echo whispers into grief’s chill…you loved. you loved. you loved.”

~ Angie Weiland-Crosby