time to myself, so rare. I'm not sure who is on the other end of this, use to be R, I feel the connection is gone. I'm forgetting so many things. I'll hear a phrase and that will bring back a memory. I feel so guilty for not being just crushed on Monday. You said something today that brought back a memory. We also talked in the car about Easter at the hospital, actually coloring eggs at the hospital, she didn't remember. She remembers being angry because of the walker and cane. She didn't understand. She only saw "old" people at church with walkers and canes. She understands now. She doesn't remember much. I know I've thought about this before being a blessing and a curse. Not having the memories to mourn, and yet missing you on all kinds of special occasions. I originally typed 'missing her ...' to refer to you as her Dad. That's what I mean, it's been seven years and you feel so far away. I can't even remember how we use to do things together anymore, it's all just how I do things and slowly adding J.
The special occasion of last week reminding her that you are not here. I was pretty proud of myself. I asked her if she wanted to wear something of yours, she said yes. Quick on my feet, (if only my wit was that quick) I thought of your tractor pin we got from the "Moods of Norway" store so many years ago. You had it on a hat I kept and that is what she wore on her special occasion dress.
It really did help and she felt better about it, like you were there in a small way. Not to toot my own horn, but I've gotten really good at helping her through the hard moments. The worst when I didn't know how best to help her where the early days when she just wailed, I just let her.
It's such an enigma, I don't want to be paralyzed, consumed by the hollow, yet when I'm not I feel incredibly guilty. Like the pain of you being gone is what is keeping me connected to you. How sad that it's the pain that seems to keep the connection real. I do smile more often then cry when a memory comes to my mind. This morning was a bit of an exception, we were talking about plants and how you can bring them back to life, one of your many talents, jack of all trades. I said something along the lines of ... 'I don't know how you do it, but you're so good at it' your response was something like you didn't know either but you brought them back with hope. That took me back to a conversation in the back of an ambulance, the only transport from your room to the radiation therapy across the street. There was an attendant with us and heard your diagnosis and talked about his wife having cancer, but she came back from a stage four diagnosis and survived. He was a little younger than we were. That gave me hope, something to hang on to. You on the other hand did not buy it. I was being a "Pollyanna" in your view, always hoping the good will prevail, hoping our team would win, even in the last minutes of the game I was hopeful for the miracle throw. There was no miracle, at one point I felt I took a knee and prevented the last chance of a hail mary. Damn decisions.
I've moved forward, sometimes it was three steps forward and two steps back, there were days it felt like five steps back. Our inside jokes are now just my inside jokes and I'm happy to report there are more inside jokes brewing and coming to the surface. I hope that doesn't bother you, well nothing can really bother you because you're dead. The olive juice is gone, the come home safe no more, and the jokes of the racoon are only mentioned by your princess, which she would no longer appreciate being called by the way. Now there is omak, text me when you're home, Lester, and the tales of the bat. We played something similar to taboo the other day and we were quite the team. Seven years is a long time, that was the age of your princess before the walker.
take care,
