Empty Home Coming

Teresa and I took our little guy and her grandson and we went camping.  Can you even imagine?  Two old ladies and 2 little boys. We drove past the hotel where we spent our honeymoon.  Past the place where we had dinner, past the historic street where we walked hand in hand and bought wine and stopped to look in the little shops.

We drove 5 hours to a rented cabin at JellyStone Park.  We camped, we played mini golf, swam and I made one heck of a campfire to roast marshmallows on.  Yogi came to our campsite and gave Tru and Tylor balloons and cookies.  Tru let his balloon float into the air because he was sending it to you in Heaven.

Last night I felt you so near me that it took my breath away.  It just over whelmed me with  your realness.  I could feel the way you would put your hand on my hip and scoot up next to me.  Spooning with me.  I could feel every part of you.  I felt the panic over taking me and I had to push it away...push the thoughts of you away from my mind before I was engulfed in the pain, before I found myself in a rented cabin miles from home and sobbing uncontrollably.

We came home today and the closer we got, the further you seemed away.  The reality of you being gone, of no one being there to even care when or if we got home, loomed larger and larger with each passing mile.  I dreaded our empty home and the absence of you.  It's such a lonely feeling to know that there is no one who anticipates your arrival.  No one to tell all our adventures to.  No one who cares.  No one to help carry the suitcases up the stairs.

Today was the 3 months anniversary of your death.  That's 1/4 of a year!  A Fourth of a year, Michael!  Do you know how long that is when you're missing someone?  When you have cried every single day for a quarter of a year?

Every day that I had you here with me was a blessing.  I don't know that I always treated every day as a blessing, but in my heart, every single day is precious.  Oh, Sweetie, if I could only have you here with me.  If we could only do it one more time.  I relive the nights when you would lean over me and kiss me good night before you went to bed.  I would put my hands on the side of your face and look into your yes and say "I love you SO MUCH!".  I think of the times you would tell me "I love you so much.  Never, ever forget, no matter what, never forget how much I love you".

Tru wrote me a letter because I was crying with missing you.  I had him read (because of course he can't write, but I knew he put his heart into it, and HE knew what it said).  He read:  Dear Mawmo, I love you very much and I will take care of you.  I know you're sad because Popi is gone.  Popi is in Heaven, but I'll take care of you".  You always told him that if anything ever happened to you, he was supposed to take care of Mawmo for you.

For three months I have avoided leaving our house.  I thought that it was because I didn't want to be further from you.  Further from our home, further than I already feel.  Now I know the truth.  It wasn't being gone that I was afraid of.  It was the empty home coming.

Three months, Michael!  It's been three months!!!!!