Remembering

These past few days have brought remembering…of all things. It has been two months now and I find that I can allow myself to remember things about Doug and about us. About our life before. It isn’t easy. In fact, it is so hard to remember – to allow myself to remember. With remembering comes pain. With remembering also comes happiness…something that is also hard to have but needed.

I can go a couple of days with doing things. Going out with friends, running errands but after those few days, two days, one day, I find that it is hard to get through the next day, the next days.

Remembering has been good but hard with the start of the holidays. I try and remember all of the times we had but try not to dwell too much on what we would be doing right now. What we would be planning for the holidays…I do try and remember what we did in the past so that Lido can have those same things. So that he knows this is what we did before all of this happened. It keeps Doug near us. It keeps him a part of our lives.

I haven’t written Lido’s letter for this month…so I think I should with this post…

My Dearest Lido,

You are fourteen months. You have grown out of a pair of your sweatpants that were too big for you just a couple of weeks ago. I was thinking just today that I needed to find a place in the house to chart your growth…I think that we will be here for a long time. You have almost a full set of teeth and you smile just like your Dad. You have two little dimples that are in the same spot as your Dad’s and you are laid back, loving and you gave me your first real kiss tonight. It caught me off guard…I tried making you do it again but you wouldn’t. I’ll be ready the next time…although it was nice to be taken by surprise.

You are into everything and have been helping me put things together and even though I try and limit what you see me do (for fear of you figuring out how to do it yourself – or undo it) I love that you want to be a part of everything. You are not interesting in playing with your toys but are more interested in figuring things out, doing what I am doing. Just today I switched out three of the electrical cover plates with enclosed “baby proof” plates to hide the cords and within 5 hours of me doing this you had figured out how to twist the ones that don’t have anything plugged into them and take the entire thing off. You are unbelievable.

You love brushing your teeth. You have even let me do it once without a fight. You love your bedtime routine and if I forget to brush your teeth…well, you head to the bathroom and get your toothbrush. You have been having a lot of fun with new friends and playmates and love Ro and Bebe and Yaya.

You point to your Daddy’s pictures around the house which makes me feel good. I know that you remember him and that you will always remember him. The two of your were so great with each other. I look back on the nights prior to your Daddy’s death and one particular night stands out. I was trying to put you down and you just kept looking out your bedroom door and yelling for your Dad. I finally called for him to come up and you went right to him and went to sleep in his arms. I am so glad you did. I am so glad that you had that. I don’t know if somehow you knew but I am thankful that I have the memory of your Dad smiling because he thought it was so great and so cool that it was him that you wanted and only him. He loved and loves you very much.

I think that we are doing okay. I have my moments and I have cried with you in my arms but I do try to keep it all together most of the time. You definitely know when I need a bit of extra love and you also know when to get my attention to just focus on you – focus on this moment. That is very much your Dad in you.

I get sad sometimes because I haven’t dreamed of your Dad…then there are times when you’ll just look up and around the room and say Dadda and then go back to what you are doing. We are going through light bulbs like you wouldn’t believe. Just tonight as I was walking with you up the stairs, I told you that I was just talking to your Uncle Steve and that he is a very good man and as I said this I switched on the landing light and the bulb blew. I know it was Doug. I think he was agreeing with me and letting us know he is still around us. I’ve been reading things from other widows and they say the same thing about having to change out light bulbs all the time…It even happened when we were in Portland. There were a bunch of your Daddy’s friends and my friends in the dining room and we were all talking and there was some laughter and I think we were talking about your Dad and the bulbs in the ceiling fan blew. I know that was him telling us that he was there with us. I am starting to think that I should buy in bulk…

I am thankful for these moments. It may seem weird to some people but I know he is here with us when these things happen.

The other night I was having a hard time. You were asleep upstairs and I was laying on the sofa crying and really missing him. All the lights were out and my eyes were closed and all I wanted was to just see his face to know he was here. To have some kind of sign that he was still with us. For a few moments all I could see was a golden light and his face shimmering in the light. Since that moment, that night, I know that he is here. It brings some peace.

There are so many little things that you do that remind me of your Dad. The way you laugh and how your eyes light up when you smile remind me of him. You have that same look of love and happiness in your eyes. There is a look that you sometimes give me where you lower your head just a bit, squint your eyebrows together and give a sly smile – this is so totally your Dad.

Thanksgiving is this week. Your Dad loved having turkey and stuffing and everything that comes with a Thanksgiving meal. I feel a bit bad because I wasn’t planning on making anything…I’m rethinking this…you may have a good T-day dinner after all…however it may end up that we go out to eat it!

I love you so much and I know we will get through this. I am constantly thinking about what your Dad would do, or what he would say, or how he would handle a situation. I know we have to go at this together but he is constantly in my mind, telling me to try something a little differently or telling me that I am doing just fine. I wish you had more time with him. It breaks my heart that you didn’t. I hope that I can teach you as much as I possibly can about him. I hope that you also see what he has given us – love of music, love of reading, knowing how to be a part of the moment right here and now, knowing how to be a good listener and a compassionate person. I don’t know why he was taken so soon but I do know that he left so much for us to learn from and to strive to be.

I’m proud of you my little boy. You are such a love and joy.

Love always,

In this life and the next,

Your Mom

Advertisements
Explore posts in the same categories: Uncategorized

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s


%d bloggers like this: