I went by the cemetery on the way home from work tonight. It was so dark, which I guess makes sense. But I find I still have a hard time coming home from work knowing you're not going to be here.
You were always my first stop on my way in. I'd come in, drop my backpack, and head in to check on you. Sometimes you were awake and playing, other times you were asleep. But you were always, always here.
And then there were the times you were in the hospital. Honestly, about half the time I was working, you were in the hospital, so there were a LOT of times I didn't even come home after work. I headed straight back to Primary's. So there's that pull as well.
Would you believe I went to check on you last night? It's been a long time since I did that, but somehow, yesterday as I went past your room, I veered in again.
And you weren't there.
You won't be there ever again.
Your funeral was a month ago yesterday.
Most of the time I'm okay, really I am. But nights are hard and may always be. But right now I'm trying not to think about how it's already been a month, and yet only a month, and there will be many, many, many more before I see you again.
I was thinking today about the book, "Love you, Forever" and how the mama always says, "I'll love you forever, I'll like you for always. As long as I'm living, my baby you'll be." For a long time I thought that was odd and when I'd read it to your siblings, I'd change it to "forever and ever my baby you'll be."
But then I learned about the story behind it. He and his wife had lost two babies, and this was a book for them. The mama imagines them growing up, and as long as she's living, they'll be her babies, because love never dies. And that's what I finally understood.
My forever boy...
I'll love you forever,
I'll like you for always,
As long as I'm living,
My baby you'll be.