January When It Comes

No one calls me Sweet Pea anymore.

Or Wren.

No one sings next to me in church with a deep bass, a bit off the rhythm but with the most joy anyone could muster.

No one calls and asks to speak to Centerfold.

As we move toward buying a new house, I know he won’t be there to help us paint — with a smile. Who paints with a smile anyway? Just him.

My sons no longer have a great-grandpa who gets down on the floor — on his belly — and plays trains. Or cars. Or just hangs out. My kids were so, so blessed.

And yet…

and yet

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While the phone doesn’t ring and I am not greeted by his deep voice… and there are no bone-crushing bear hugs… and I simply miss his face, his voice, his presence

He will always be with me, with us.

Two years may have passed. Two years without my beloved Papau. But he is still present in our memories, in our stories, in our hearts. In the lives we continue to live.

His legacy lives on through these two little guys.

Sleeping Forever

Natural Light

“They will fly me, like an angel,
To a place where I can rest.”

Missing you tonight… and always.

 

Firefighter Apparel by Black Helmet Apparel

Why I’m Here

I was heading out the door. I stopped into the playroom, keys in hand, jacket buttoned up. “See you guys!

BigBrother actually paused his DS and looked at me. “Where are you doing?

I’m off to the doctor. Remember, I said it would take awhile.

Oh good.

I raised an eyebrow at him.

When you’re gone for long times, that means I get to miss you. I like to miss you.

Huh.

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I’ve made choices and rearranged schedules and altered the course of my career to be here. A lot. Most of the time. I travel here and there. And I do actually have a life outside of the walls of my house. But I am here. A lot.

It’s the moments like these that make me confused as to what I’m doing. Here. All the time.

I grew up with a mom who put herself through college when I was a small child, worked her way up the ladder and was both a great mom and a great career woman. She was there when I was younger, and I remember “helping” her study at our coffee table. I don’t think I realized that I was more of a distraction than a help until I was trying to meet deadlines and learn new things with two children under foot. Or, often, on top of my feet as they frequently drive cars and trains and trucks and fire trucks and ambulances and tractors over my toes while I work.

Working from home isn’t always easy. Learning to separate what I do for work from what I do for my family was a hard process, learned (and re-learned) over the past six years. Like Stacy, I share an office with the playroom, though I mostly hang out upstairs since my two sons have been known to make ear drums burst with their volume. Someday I dream of my own office space, one that I don’t have to share with anyone. With a lock on the door, which would be pointless as it would mostly be open and children would be standing in it asking me for water when they can get the water themselves. But I still dream of it. It’s green, obviously.

It’s funny that I love to travel for my job, and I look forward to taking trips to new places. But as the day arrives, I dread leaving my little guys behind. I enjoy my time with my coworkers, meeting new people and experiencing new things, but I love the look on their face when I return. When I got back from my MRI the other day, they looked just as happy. Mainly because it was time to play Super Mario Bros., so it may have been less about me and more about my accidental timing. But I smiled back at them, ready to play.

I dropped the boys off with my mother-in-law to spend the night tonight. We’re having our last holiday celebration tomorrow with my sister-in-law and her husband. Maybe tomorrow when I show up, they will run and hug me and say, “Mommy! I missed you!

January Fun

I know I will tell them that I missed them. I always do. That’s why I’m here.