We started our blogs as a way to keep up with one another better. Everyday life was preventing us from talking as often as we liked, and the visits were far too scarce. Now though, I find myself unable to keep up with it because what I really want to say - what I would normally share with you personally - are things that you don't need to hear right now.
I'm going to miss you so much.
I was making gingerbread cookies this morning and planning our visit next week in my head. I have crafts to bring for the boys, cards to address with you, a copy of The Help, and I've been mulling over the best way to get your house to smell like Christmas. I've decided on a pot of Trader Joe's Pear Cinnamon Cider simmering on the stove top.
Doesn't all of that sound divine? Except that as soon as I ran down the list in my mind, my stupid brain added, "Because this is her last Christmas. I want it to be as perfect as possible."
Dammit. I try so hard to never think like that. You have taught me so much about living right now - right this very moment - and not worrying about when your last one will be. I've needed that. But it's a hard habit for me to break.
I started going through old pictures last night. I thought I might bring them with me next week, but then I decided that we aren't those people anymore, and we are living in the present. Right? But man, your hair was so long and gorgeous.
I'm sure we'll cry together next week. I don't see how we can't. But I promise you that I will remember that my sorrow is not your burden to bear at this point. You have walked with me and held me up through so much in my life.
It's my turn to return the favor.
I love you.