Not an hour goes by that I don’t think of you. I was telling Noah and Evie on Wednesday night that I miss you yelling at me. They thought that was pretty funny.
Evie still asks most weeks; “When is mummy not going to be died anymore?” She enjoys wearing your clothes and makeup. She talks about you with enthusiasm pouring from her larynx.
As I mentioned in my last post, Noah has had a tough time in the last few weeks digesting that you are back in your bedroom, as six kilograms of dust. It’s mind-boggling for me so I can’t imagine the thought process for a six-year-old boy. A beautiful little boy that was infatuated with you, his mum, his security, his life.
You would be so proud of the kids. As each month sneaks by, I increasingly want you to see how the kids have grown. I would love you to hear the conversations I have with them. Remember when we would all lie in bed, cracking up laughing at Noah’s stories before he drifted off to sleep? I looked forward to this time in the preceding hours. I still do, it’s probably my favourite time of the day.
We miss you so much.
I’ve been really busy with work and am having some great wins. You would be very proud.
We are doing really well considering. Everyone is supporting the kids and me to a level I could never forecast. We’re off on another road trip tomorrow. The front passenger seat empty but our hearts and minds full of the reason the three of us are together as a tight little team, the reason being YOU!
I wrote this post with tears on my traditionally arid cheeks 😢, struggling to see the words i was typing on the screen. Time has moved so quickly this year but it feels like an eternity. Six months is so fast in the scheme of things but so slow when an endless pit of anguish fails to repair. Such a juxtaposition of time.
I carry some respite knowing how much you loved me. The kids do too. Yesterday in bed, Evie said; “mummy tried so hard didn’t she?” I love that your spirit is embedded in her little firey soul.