It is so hard for me to do normal things anymore. Cooking? No way. I have made dinner one time since we lost you. Laundry is a joke. Your daddy has been picking up the slack on laundry and your Aunt Angie has been making dinner. I don't clean anymore. Cleaning without having to pick up all your toys and clothes and diapers is too hard. I did do laundry today. I knew I had to, Lyvi and I had no clean clothes. So I sucked it up. I even put all of your sister's clothes away. Somehow 2 of your burp cloths ended up in her laundry. I got to put those away in your jammie drawer. The drawer that I haven't been able to open since you died. All your clean jammies and socks folded waiting to be worn by you. I broke. I had a nice meltdown in there, holding your woombie and my favorite pair of your pants, the gray and white striped ones. Your woombie still smells like your spit up, which normally would be gross, but I don't ever want that smell to go away. Ever. It's proof that you were really here. Proof that I didn't just dream you up. No matter what it is I'm doing I always have guilt. "Why am I at lunch when my daughter died 40 days ago? You shouldn't be here, acting like everything is hunky dory." These sorts of thoughts constantly go through my head. Always. Whether I am at the grocery store, at lunch, putting laundry away, putting my make up on. Constantly. Nothing feels right without you here. Drinking my coffee in the morning is like taking a bullet. You always, always ruined my coffee in the morning. Your morning nap was always right when I got my coffee. You would scream and cry and all I wanted to do was drink my coffee. I would give anything to have you ruin my morning coffee again. Anything. Now it's just my tears that ruin it. I miss you so much honey buns. I am so sorry this happened to you. It makes me so mad that it happened to you. Before I lost you I never really thought about that aspect of a child dying. I mostly just thought how sad it was for the parents and the family. Now all I think about it how awful it is that this happened to you and to all the other kids and babies that die. It is so awful that you were robbed of the life you should have had. My sadness is nothing compared to how unfair it is to you that you died. It should not have happened to you. And, if I read one more comment about how the Lord called you home I might just punch someone. You should be here, end of story. Period. Not up for debate. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I love you. I miss you. I hope you are warm, and I will always hope that this is all a cruel cruel joke and you will be given back to me soon. Always.
|Vi in her woombie|