I looked at pictures of him. Alive. Playing with my sons, tossing them into the pool as they giggled with anticipation. You can practically hear them in the photo image. Our sons. Such a happy day. He was alive.
As I look at the pictures, I physically feel the heaviness. The heaviness in my spirit stretches into my bones. My shoulders feel heavy. My eyelids too.
I realize how much I don't think about him.
How little I think about him.
Really, truly stop and think about him.
It's too heavy. All of it. All of me.
Finally!!! Someone who is honest! I have always felt guilty about the fact that I don't think about my loved ones who've died on regular daily basis. I hear people say and post things like, "I miss you every day" and "Not a day has gone by that I haven't thought about you." Thank you for your honesty. It's beautiful. Just because we don't think about them as often or as much, doesn't mean we don't miss them and still love them, right?
I agree with you today. I really sat with those birthday pictures and remembered him. And I cried. Seeing that kind of joy reminded me afresh of the magnitude of your loss. The boys'. Ours. Picturing him being that awesome with his kids at every age and stage just made me cry. Can our sorrow at all ease your burden? Stones in our pockets, Tricia. We still carry the smallest part of this with us. Robb in our memories, and the sorrow of his absence, always.
Oh Tricia, I wish I could give you a hug,!!