Childhoodtake2!

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on show.

Go.

How do I show you I love you?
Is it through a tradition?
The ones that the first time we do them fill me with something so full, so wonderful, so magical that I could not imagine my life without them?
Is it the number of hugs?
The ones that we hold on a little too long, the ones that I smell your air and
Is it the smooches?
The ones that I can't help but pile on? You're so damn smoochy!
Is it our little sayings?
The ones that I started the very first day you were born? The ones that spilled out of my mouth so naturally and stayed with us forever?
Is it our time together?
Our walks, our night-time snuggles, the shows we love to watch together, our reading dates?
Is it this blog?
The one that has captured motherhood and childhood all in one?
Is it the framily we have shared together?
The feeling of being complete with our people?
Is it how honest we can be together?
How much we can cry, laugh, talk, tell?

How do I show you I love you?
Let me count the ways.

How do you show me you love me right back?
Is it through a tradition?
The ones that you love as much as I do and insist on?
Is it the number of hugs?
The ones that you melt into me with?
Is it the smooches?
The ones that you laugh at me giving?
Is it our little sayings?
The ones that you know so well you whisper them to me from your dreams?
Is it our time together?
Our walks, our night-time snuggles, the shows we love to watch together, our reading dates?
Is it this blog?
The one that you'll read and cry at, the one that you'll have forever as a memory?
Is it the framily we have shared together?
The feeling of knowing we have found our home?
Is it how honest we can be together?
How much you open up to me, tell me what is on your mind, but also protect?

How do you show your love my littles?
Let me count the ways.

Stop.

Happy birthday old man.
Remember how much you hated it when I called you that?
The glare you would give me? You would tell me how much stronger you were than me. How you could run circles around me...old man...I'll show you old man.
You would have been 78 and it's the first one without you.
She struggled and wished you were here.

We went out to dinner, to your spot, just like you would have liked.
All of us. Around one table.
Talking so inappropriately loud that others thought we were yelling.
But, that's just us.
She was quiet, she was wishing you were there.

We took her to the cemetery. We brought you flowers.
Just like you would have wanted.
You were so worried no one would visit, but we came, we sat and talked to you.
She cried, she wanted you home.

I cried on my way home from dinner.
I remembered how you said goodbye when you were clear on what was happening.
I kept remembering what you looked like in your final days.
How much you slept, how tired you were, how much pain you were in but refusing to take anything.
Dammit you were a tough SOB.
She hasn't stopped crying, she told me that it was so much easier having you around. Even if all you did was yell at each other, it's so much easier than this.

Cole said he thinks about you every night while he's going to sleep.
He doesn't know why it's at night, but it is.
He said that sometimes it makes him cry, and whenever he talks about you he breaks down.
He makes me cry when he gets like that and he tells me how much he misses your hugs.
She hugged him and kissed him at the cemetery, just like she did the day we left you.

Cory struggles whenever he thinks of you.
He gets quiet.
He wishes you were here to tell him how he's doing a project the wrong way.
I think you would be yelling at him about how he didn't clean your tracker correctly.
But in all honesty, he wants to hear you say how proud and impressed you are with his projects.
He just wanted to impress you with his work and you delivered that pride that you only saved for him.

So, a few months after we all put you to rest, we celebrated your birth.
She really didn't want to. She feels it's inappropriate to celebrate and she's struggling with what she thinks she should do vs what you would have wanted us to do.
She was struggling between wanting to just sit and cry and knowing how much you would have hated that.
We did you proud, as proud as you could get of us.
I'm sure there would have been lots you would have complained about...the outside was too warm, the wedding downstairs was too loud, the waiter was too slow, the 3.5-hour meal went too fast and we tried to rush you out.
But, we went to your favorite spot.
We ordered a ton of food.
We brought in an apple crisp because it was your favorite - Paola remembered.
I had a glass of wine.

Happy birthday old man.
I hope you celebrated it in style like only you know how.

It's been a year of significant loss, stress, chaos, schedules, hand-holding through the worst of times, walking away, starting over, starting again, finding a new groove, finding new.

It's been a year.

It's also been a year of finding new closeness. Finding new loves. Finding family. Finding out how much I have to give. Realizing that even I have limits.

But that's okay. I believe I am ready to start the healing. Nowhere near healed, but ready to start.
I just need to figure out how and what is needed.

I know it's time.
Not only time for me to heal but time is what I need to heal.
I know it's more crying.
I know I need to let it out more. I know I need to cry about how this feels, and I need to be okay with the fact I will always cry when thinking of the memories.
I also know that it's eventually going to be less and less crying.
Because time will allow it to not be so fresh.
I know it's probably more thinking.
No longer thinking about what I could have done differently but instead about what I was able to do. How much I was able to love.
I know it's also thinking about it less.
I'm ready to no longer think this much about you.
I'm ready to put you to bed.
I know it's finding my footing again.
I need to find and figure out who I am without. Who I am and what I now need.
I know it's finding someone to laugh with.
I need laughter, I need connection, and someone to remember I have so much joy.
I know it's finding someone to talk to about it.
I don't know who, but I need to find healthy and appropriate releases.
I know it's getting angry and sad.
I'm ready to be angry at you for your part.
I'm ready to accept that you had a part.
I believe it will be more writing and processing.
I know that I need to process all that has happened in the whirlwind of the year.
I know it's getting to peace and being okay.
I know it's getting to okay and I know I will be okay.

In order to heal, you can't go back to what broke you.

I have a love in my life that reminded me that I struggle with letting go.
I struggle with loss and I struggle with failure.
Have I failed, did I fail, did it fail, did I fail you, or me?

Is that why my dreams are so real?
Is that why my memories are so strong?
Is that why I remember conversations, moments, and feelings?
Is that why I can remember a touch, a hug, a look?
Because when things get bad, I remember only the good.
I think my brain wants to protect me but all that really does is prolong the pain.

I also know that in this crazy year, I found a significant amount of love and calm.
How is it possible that through all of the hurt, loss, and craze, there were still so many amazing moments of love?
So many amazing moments of togetherness.
So many amazing moments of laughter.
And that too is part of my healing.
I need to remember all the love we shared.

I know it's slow, painful, and long.
But the first step is at least realizing I want to heal.
And I do want to heal. I want to put this part of my life to bed.
I'm ready to heal from you.
I'm ready to heal for me.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on forget.

Go.

I have a tendency not to forget...anything.
Not a conversation, or a word, or a feeling, or a dream.
I remember.

I remember the details.
Like who was wearing what.
Who was standing where.
I remember.

I remember memories.
Like every second of the entire day you were born.
Or every moment of every part of your life.
Or how it felt to rock and hold you.
I remember.

I am the keeper of your memories.
The one that knows your past.
I am the one you can count on for the stories.
I am the one you can turn to for the "tell me again about the time".

Because I remember it all.

Stop.

Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on together.

Go.

Together is one of my favorite places to be.

One whole week a year.
I get to snuggle into my second family, and we are finally exactly where we are supposed to be.
We are together.

This year is a little more special.
This past year has brought on quite a bit of loss and I am feeling a pull towards you like you would not believe.
I am feeling a need to be right by your side.
I need to feel your warmth and laughter.
I need to hear him laugh.
I need to be hugged by your husband.
I need to tell your kids how much I love them right to their face.

Together is one of my favorite places to be.

It's the one week a year both of our husbands fall in love with our joy again.
Because we bring about a joy in each other don't we.

Together, my sweet loving friend, we created something pretty special.
We created 8 people that need each other.
Love on each other.
Love to be near each other.
Love to laugh together.
Love to play together.
Love one another.
Our love is so damn strong that even our dogs are besties.

Together is one of my favorite places to be.

I promise to soak you in.
I promise to soak in the sound of the water, the warmth of the sun, and the food.
I promise to walk with you at night.
I promise to have coffee with you in the morning.
I promise to take that first sip of magical bloody mary and praise my husband with you.

Together is one of my favorite places to be.
Because, together, my sweet loving friend, we created something pretty special.