Today I had to go to the police station to claim his things. My father tried to do it for me and they would not let him. Reading the words on the forms I had to sign, reading through his list of things (3 keyrings, pocket knife, wallet, cell phone, comb, belt buckle) destroyed me. The stuff of his life, no longer his, but mine to claim. So many awful memories, a week and a half fresh...of that very same station...the very same people...and even more pain. Again it hits me that these are the types of things that he took care of and shielded me from. So I signed the forms releasing them from liability for possibly "contaminating" me (how could my baby contaminate me?) and brought them home. I can't go through them. My father has them.
My mother in law is mad because my son has not been back to school since Tuesday. He is not ready. His separation anxiety is great. His teacher knows and acknowledges that we are making the right decision. I am defending him against stupid words ("Now you have to take care of Mama", "Be a little man") that could wreck his psyche. Knowing I cannot make this hurt better for him, but only help see him through.
He played with his cousin today, which is a good thing. I am trying to encourage him that this is what Daddy would want, just as I encourage our daughter that daddy would want her to do the best she can this last year of school... all the while I am just waiting.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Dreamlike
This is not real. This cannot be happening to us. On Saturday we were spending wonderful day together, making plans for a future that would never come. The service is over, the family and friends have left...and still I cannot wrap my mind around it.
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