Twice in the past day I’ve had moments of missing him sneak attack the cuss outta me.
Yesterday on our drive back from the grocery store Magnus commented on a shed that’s on the back of a truck on the road we were on: “that’s going to be there forever, it’s never going to move” (we’ve seen it sitting there the last week or so).
I laugh and say “so it’s still going to be there when you’re an old man?” He said he was never going to get old and before I can think of what the words mean I tell him that of course he is, we all get old. He asks me if his daddy was old. I answer that no, his daddy wasn’t old and start choking on my heart. I tell him that his daddy was young when he died, and he asks if I’m crying and I tell him yes, I am. I’m crying because I’m sad that I won’t grow old with your daddy, that I’m sad I won’t get to see him as an old man with wrinkles and a head full of grey hair. It’s strange to think that some day Magnus will be older than his father ever got to be.
Today I was looking at info for the town of Weston, MO. It’s a small town about an hour from here, they have a famous old Irish pub that I went to about 10 years ago. I have a few friends at the Irish fest there this weekend. I was looking at the food the pub serves, the bed and breakfasts there and I start crying because my heart and my mind immediately thought of Chris and I there; the food, the beer, the small town – he would have cussing loved it all.
It’s a beautiful rainy fall day outside, Magnus is napping. I’m going to wander around my house for a bit, drink some cider, and compartmentalize so that I can get some damn homework done. I have so much due this next week and I’ve been procrastinating far too much.
Having spent most of the last week at home with a sick Magnus has been twilight-zonish. When we went back to the doctor on Thursday there was a man with a mask on in the waiting room, it made me think of Chris. Later when Magnus used the lobby bathroom the smell in it confused me and then I realized it was the distinct odor of urine from someone getting chemo treatments.
Tomorrow we’re getting family photos taken on campus and at the pumpkin patch so we can mail them to loved ones for the holiday. This was the last family photo taken of us:
It was Thanksgiving day of 2010, 4 months after he was diagnosed, 4 months before he died.
We’ll have the two daddy dolls and daddy bear in the photos with us tomorrow.
ad astra per aspera 