Archive for April 2012

New Wheels

26 April, 2012

Lido and I both got new wheels over the past couple of weeks.

First up was Lido. He got a real balancing bike…we were going for the bike with training wheels but he’s had a balancing bike for the past couple of summers (with wide wheels) that he’s been using and I decided that he could probably go from a regular tire balance bike to a regular bike quite easily. So, balancing bike it was and he is AWESOME on it. I think by the time ‘real summer’ hits, we will have a regular bike in our possession and he will be riding around the neighborhood!

It wasn’t as hard to get this bike as I thought it would be. I guess I’ve been dreading it for so long that the dread is worse than the actual – as it is with anniversaries and other dates. It’s the days leading up to ‘the date’ than the actual date that is the hardest. Plus, Lido just loves his new bike and even will talk to complete strangers to tell them that he got a new bike! He hardly talks to people he knows let alone strangers! We walked/rode to dinner one evening and he was just so proud of himself on the bike. At first he was pretty hesitant to get on the bike and walked it instead, staying right beside me…then on a quieter street, he got on and was a block ahead of me in no time. Ahhhh, my little boy.

And then Momma got some new wheels as well…

It’s taken me a year to finally trade in our SUV. The last major purchase that Doug and I made…The car that still had his lip imprints on the passenger side rear window from when he kissed Lido goodbye – the one’s I didn’t ever want to wash off. I can still see them there. The car where we got stuck in the backseat feeding Lido and forgot the child locks were on. The car that took us out to the coast on many occasions that spring and summer before he died.

I woke up the other day and just decided to do it. I wasn’t using the SUV like we did before. I wanted a regular car to drive around town. I found one that I really liked. Went back home to get the title to the SUV, looked for signs telling me not to do this. Didn’t receive any signs, as a matter of fact, the title and checkbook took me no time at all to find, which was really surprising and I got back in the car and drove to the dealer…crying the whole time.

In some ways, that SUV still attached me to him. It was something tangible that I could feel and touch every single day to remind myself that we did exist. That it wasn’t a dream. Now though, I was at the point that I’ve learned that it’s not the tangible things, it’s the intangible things that still connect us. The talks and feelings that we had only between the two of us. The deep love between the two of us that will never go away. Those are the things that matter the most and that will never go away. There is no more need to hold on to everything physical.

This is not a ‘moving on’ post…There is no ‘moving on’ – god how I hate when people say that. It’s a moving forward – moving forward with everything that we ever had, ever created, ever shared and becoming the person that is made up of all of that and more.

And, I love my new ride.

Growth Spurt

16 April, 2012

My dearest child,

Again, it’s been a while and my how you have changed. You are taller, more talkative, a tiny bit more outgoing (it takes a bit less than 30 minutes for you to warm up to strangers), more imaginative and still observant as ever.

This journey with you over the past 2.5 years without your Dad has been just that, a journey. You constantly amaze me & you are wise beyond your 3.5 years…

There have been a few instances as of late, where I know you’ve been working things through and understanding more and more about your Dad. It hurts to see you go through it, especially when I think I am communicating with you in a way that you understand and then it completely flops…

This year for your Dad’s birthday, I thought you were old enough that we could celebrate it together and plan a day out have a great brunch, flying kites and getting a couple cupcakes. I told you the plan and that it was your Dad’s birthday so we were going to do something fun to celebrate his life. You were excited and told anyone you could that it was your Dad’s birthday.

Well, brunch was good. The rest of the day…not so much. It took me forever to get the kite together and it was frickin’ hot outside and there was just enough wind and you were a big help to a great extent but when it came down to getting that kite up into the fucking air…it hit me – not the kite – but the fact that some things in life are just easier when you have someone beside you, helping you. That I, not that I do this, can not expect you to step up, pick up the kite and make it fly. In those few short minutes of trying to get the kite to fly, it all just came crashing down on me. I’m tired of doing this alone and he should have been there at the other end of that fucking kite. Helping me. Showing you what to do.

Easter was the next week and as we were setting the table for brunch, you came to me and pointed to the end of the table and said ‘that’s where my Dad is going to sit, right?’ I just stood there. I had no idea what to say. In split second thinking I reeled over everything that I had said to you lately, conversations we had had within the past week, month, year to figure out why you would think that your Dad would be sitting down with us…Then, I just picked you up, went to the living room, sat you on my lap and told you that he couldn’t sit at the table with us. That he could only watch us from the sky and heaven…It really was the first time I’ve had to think about explaining death to you. I don’t know if celebrating your Dad’s birthday confused you in some way – I’m assuming it did – but after I said what I did, you looked at me and told me you wanted to go and play. I could see your mind turning all of this over & knew that yes, you would be okay and sometimes the only thing I’ll be able to do is just give you a great big hug, a kiss and tell you that I love you. Because, damn it, sometimes there can be no explanation, no words.

And you do amaze me. You see so much in this world and I hope you never lose that. I love you and we are doing good kid. We both have our moments but we are doing good. We celebrate your Dad’s life everyday by living ours to the fullest & opening up our hearts and head to the bigger picture. He taught me so much, gave me so much and loved both of us so much. Through his life & his death, he has opened up a whole world to us, a way to live life, to love, to laugh…to embrace it all as he did.

On a final note, you my child, make me laugh. Your imagination and humor, just amazing.

I’ll always love you.

This life and the next,

Your Momom

 

Funny face at home…

 

Having fun in Munich with some dear friends…

 

Running in Paris…

 

Self portrait (we do a lot of these) in Salzburg during our carriage ride…