As each day slips away I find myself wondering how the time has passed by so quickly… How can it possibly be 6 months since you last kissed me good night? Night Mom, Love ya… I can still feel the slight prickle of your whiskers as you kissed my check and said good night to me for the last time. Something you always did was reassured how much you loved each one of us.
I know for many the words I love you are known, but rarely said. I am so blessed that Grant so openly said how much he loved us. Some of us may live a long life and never say those words as often as Grant did in his 23 years. I believe love is learned by example. We treat others very much like we have been taught whether it is the example we learn to live from our family or the example of love that we embraced and received from someone else. It is a blessing to those who have learned this early in life. I was talking to someone very close to me about family, love and kindness and how they wish their children could have peace with each other… They reiterated how it’s amazing how my children love each other so much. Just as much on the bad days as on the good. I don’t know why loving each other and expressing it came so easy for our family and comes so hard for some. Maybe others just have a longer time on this earth to figure it out than we did. When you lose someone you love, especially a child, you tend to reflect back on the years of their growing up down to the last few days and hours you were with them. The last 6 month have been like one long day of the past; it’s so hard to get past the past because each day is so consumed with it. Re-living those moments are all I have left. 6 months ago I would have told Grant several times to put your shoes away, but this time I leave them there. I even stare at the laces because he tied them. Something I now know all to well is that all the little things are such big things in this whole big picture of life.
It drove me crazy that you walked on the back of your shoes… Now I look at them and realize you just didn’t think it was important and the truth is… it wasn’t. Those shoes tell a story about you. I look back at the things that I told you over and over like ‘don’t park behind me when you come home’. It seemed like such a bother to move your car. I wish I would have smiled about those kind of things because your car behind mine would mean you were home again. The dirty dishes in the sink would mean you had a good time with a friend. The cigarette butts by the swing would mean you had a long conversation with someone special. I wish I could have back all my complaints and embrace them in a different way. You, my Grant, would have told me; “Mom, it is what it is…let it be.” I love you Grant, Mama