Tonight Troy and I had date night out front in our yard. We have a small two topper under a lovely tree which provides nice shade and breeze.
We do date night weekly and have for years. Tonight was an impromptu date night and we sat and reminisced over the past six weeks.
Six fucking weeks of hell. Hell that is so much worse than your worst nightmare could ever concoct.
Thank goodness our family is as strong as it is. The girls are rockstars. We sat and talked about our future. There were tears and smiles, more tears but lately that seems to be our new norm.
I know six weeks seems like a really long time to most. In this weird time warp we seem to be in where we can’t remember what day or time it is, six weeks still pains me to the core, in a way I really cannot explain in words.
I had the epiphany today that I don’t remember time being marked until Jaidon was born. Back then, we counted days, then weeks then, months then years as he went from infant to toddler to child, for each of the kids, really. I feel like I am repeating history with that thought process again. I count the days, weeks and months that he has been gone in a similar fashion.
When you have a baby you cannot imagine how it is possible your heart could have grown so immensely. When you lose them the hole is exponentially greater. So much deeper than you could ever imagine.
It is amazing to me how large a hole that is. It is like leaving the house without your wallet, that constant feeling that something is missing. Something important.
I know what is missing. My baby is missing. He should be here with us but he is not. I’m sure in time I will get used to that concept, but six weeks, which feels like a long time for many, is too long for me.