Wednesday, October 9, 2019

Today

I woke up today and you were still gone.   I got the kids breakfast and put them on the bus. An inconvenience and a luxury. A luxury to kiss them goodbye.  To have dinner in the crockpot ready when everyone gets home.  A luxury you will never have again.

I woke up today and you were still gone. I read somewhere that a sign of hope is setting your alarm to wake up in the morning.  And couldn't help imagining you setting your alarm Sunday night.  Preparing the house for another week ahead of school and work and kid activities.  Was it still going off when they found you?

I woke up today and you were still gone. I want to text you and ask you how I'm suppose to handle this because you are the person I would have normally texted.  And I know you would tell me to keep swimming. To "not trouble trouble".  So I sit in my office, emails coming in, meetings to attend. I have conversations at the bus stop and training dogs and the bike trails the town put in.

I woke up today and you were still gone. And if I am lucky enough to wake up tomorrow you will still be gone. And I will miss you in all the small moments. And years from now I  know if I am still lucky enough to keep waking up I will reach for phone to text you.  Because we were supposed to be old women together.  Because you were robbed of the luxury to tuck your kids in and watch them grow.  Because I was robbed of one of my best friends.

I woke up today and you were still gone.

Friday, September 13, 2019

The day that was more then good enough

I woke up on the first day of school and had time to straighten my hair so when I went to the schools boo hoo breakfast I wouldn't embarrass my kids. I got down stairs and made them fresh smoothies. My son complained his eye hurt it was a little puffy but not pink eye (I called the doctor to check). I made them lunches and made my daughter brush her hair.

When we missed the bus (because a summer of no deadlines means no one noticed the kitchen clock had slowly lost 10 minutes) I didnt yell. I laughed and made the kids get out of the car and take first day of school photos. Then I got passed the bus (legally) and pulled into one of my sons best friends driveways.  Everyone laughed when I told them what happened and the events were forever captured and published on social media.

I got to the school before the buses which means I got to see my son walk by me flashing the peace sign and earned one more hug from my daughter.  Then I went to work. Sat in meetings, worried about my son's eye and waiting until it was the day was done. At 315 they called me from my mother's care laughing about the day, my sons eye was fine, they were off to get DQ to celebrate the first day of school.

I met my mom at my sons football practice at 6.  His turquoise practice Jersey a stark contrast against the light green manicured lawn. His helmet and pads making him look like a little kid in his big brothers clothes. While my daughter ran around the parameter with a new friend her blond hair streaking like fire behind her in the setting sun.

I sat on a conference call for the last hour of practice and was able to get my sons helmet and pads off without needing to put down the phone and when the call switched to the car speakers (because hands free laws are important) my kids turned their voices to whispers.

It was 8pm when we pulled in the driveway, I hung up the phone and finally asked them what I had been dying to know all day, how was school? 

We tumbled in the door together, a pile of backpacks and sports equipment. I filled out what seemed like hundreds of pages of emergency contact, bus transportation, school lunch and internet privacy forms while my husband got the corn out of the boiling water. We ate dinner, open faced warm roast beef sandwiches made from last night's pot roast and corn from the farmers market. We talked about our days and laughed about what there was to laugh about. The kids took showers and at 915 my daughter was in bed curled up with her kitten and my son in bed curled up with a book and I took the dog out and spent 30 minutes on the porch with my husband watching the moon rise above the tree line and thinking that even though the day was far from perfect, it might be as perfect as we will ever get.