Dear Jakey,
We spent a few days in the city. It was nice but hard. We were supposed to take the train but I had the times wrong and we missed it. So we drove instead. When I told Abue she said things happen for a reason. I didn’t think much of it until just a bit ago. I think she was right. I was really have a hard time thinking about the train. And I kept telling myself it was silly because I took the train to NYC since you left us. But it was different. It was just with Daddy. And going with Ethan would be different. It would remind me of November 6th. That was the last day we were on the train together. It was also the day I think your femur started acting up because it was after that trip down that you started wincing sometimes at PT or when I changed your diaper. And the train was so cozy with you. I got to hold you and snuggle the whole time. And I loved it. I loved it then and I miss it now. Anyways, maybe that was reason enough. Maybe I am just not ready.
NYC was good though, Jakey. I think of you there. I think you liked it as much as I always have. I remember being a kid and being in the city with Abue and G-Pa and always loving the anonymity of it. How it didn’t really matter and no one really cared. No one looked or paid any mind to any one else. For some reason I always loved that as a kid. And I loved it as your mom because we didn’t get the looks as much when we walked around or when I stopped to feed you in the park. Or at the Museum of Natural History. Our business and life was ours. And there is something freeing about that. Anyways, we were there. We visited with Kir and Mike and Ollie. Fiona and Gracie are coming on Friday. We talked about Nola. And we talked about you. And Kir reminded me that what we have gone through is the worst thing ever. And it isn’t something that you just get over. She told me that when I had a dream about you on Saturday night, it was you coming to see me. The dream was weird and didn’t make a ton of sense. You were in the back of a pickup truck in a seat belt. You could move. I didn’t write it down so I don’t remember much. And I told her and she made it such a positive. She said you chose to come to me in my dreams and it didn’t really matter what happened, just that you came. And she was right. And you came back Sunday night. I loved it. I saw you smile. You called me Momma. There was a whole of other weird stuff and my friend Karolyn was in it. You never met her but she came to your wake. I wrote that one down as soon as I woke up from it at 12:44 am. These visits make me think you agree with what I am thinking about now. That I need to slow it down. I was thinking for a while that it was important to do all that I couldn’t do before, almost in tribute to you. The whole thing about your death not being in vain and all. And now I am thinking that the opposite will be the best way to pay tribute. To remember the quiet in our lives and what we did together. And maybe, just maybe I am ready to tackle that box I shoved under my desk and start the scrapbook. And catch up on the photo books. And start the quilts. I think it is time. And I can make life slow down enough and start saying no and make the time to do them. At least until my pendulum swings back in the other direction.
I am just so very sad without you. The anger is gone, at least for now. It just seems so desperately sad. And long. Life is too long without you. Without your touch. I love you. I miss you.
Forever,
Mommy