Oh, how I wish it were different!
The odd bits that break my heart-
The moment my three living children are in the family room, joking and laughing-but his voice is so obviously missing.
The moment I say to one son, “Have you texted your brother?” and don’t have to give a name, because there is only one brother left to text.
The moment I go down the list of who-I-have-heard-from-in-the-last-24-hours and it is short a single name. I know where Dominic is.
The moment I realize that it has been three years (!) since I bought him a present, asked him for a Christmas wish list, checked in to check his schedule so I can arrange family dinners and holiday get togethers.
The moment I count plates or cups or places at the table-always one less, always one empty chair.
Yes, there are good days.
Yes, I am so very thankful for each moment I have with the ones left.
But if counting blessings is supposed to undo my heartache I must be doing it all wrong.
If focusing on the “now” is a way to ignore the “then” I need more practice.
No matter how hard I try, I cannot get over the hurdle of wanting things to be like they were.
I am not ungrateful. I cherish every single second we are together.
I hold every farewell close to my heart.
I make a mental picture of the face, the smile, the wave-because when you learn the hard way that this time might be the last time-you don’t take anything for granted.
I cling to the promise that one day we will be reunited.
But right now, it’s hard.