I Miss You!

I miss you. I suppose that goes without saying.  I ponder and think often.  I recollect.  Sometimes it's memories of you. Other times it's about that day, that night, that week... The aftermath.  I know it sounds cliche, but it really does seem like yesterday. It's only when I look at how much the kids have grown, how big Charlee is that I realize how long ago you died.  I wonder what that makes me, still so sad and often lost without you two years later.  Then I realize I really don't care.

The day.  It was the Tuesday after Memorial Day.  The weekend we spent working in the yard.  Mulch had been delivered and we were slowly working on distributing the gigantic pile.  We'd had a wonderful visit from your Dad who had played with Charlee in the little blow up pool... But Tuesday was back to the grind.  Work, daycare, school... After homework, I was loading up the kids for lacrosse and swim practice. Charlee was all buckled in her car seat and you pulled in from work.  I remember so many little details, but forget others.  I remember what you wore. You asked if you could help.  No, you were sore from all the work that weekend... Enjoy a ride I said.  You hugged and kissed me thank you in the archway of the kitchen and went our separate ways.  My last kiss. My last hug.

The night.  Kids in bed, Charlee fed and you text you'll be home soon.  I respond be careful and as I put Charlee down I read from you "I love my life".... My last text.  I will always hold on to those last words.  The rest of the night was a blur.  I fell asleep trying to put Charlee down. The knock on the door, the realization that you weren't home, the numbness when I heard the news all burn brightly in my memory.  My friends remind me of things I did... Said... It's these things I don't remember exactly.  That was the numbness.

The morning after.  I remember bits and pieces.  I remember thinking I can't possibly cry anymore.  I need to wipe my tears, I need to make phone calls, I need to tell the kids.  I remember the reaction of each... Breaking my heart even more.  My oldest... "No." Silence..."you mean I'm never going to see him again?"  My 8 year old simply cried.

I remember having a plan to notify people. It helped.  A calling tree in a sense. It felt good to have a plan.  And then I didn't know what to do next.  I mean what do you do when your world comes crashing down like it never has before?  At this point, a manual, a guide, a checklist would've been nice.

I remember standing still in a world rushing and spinning all around me and all I could do was sink slowly and wonder ..... What now?

Good night my friends... For now.  <\3.