He is still gone. And we are still here. Most days, we are good. We do life and fart jokes and weird competitions and school and activities. But, on days that mark Auggie's death...Honestly, I just kind of hate those days.
I really hate today.
There is no logic in it. I can recognize that.
I hate it like I hate the hotel I was in when I listened to the doctor telling Nigel (in person) and me (on the phone) that there was nothing left to try. I hate the Newark airport, where the girls and I flew from to go home to a house without Auggie in it. I hate his empty chair that that I cannot give away. It is Auggie's. It cannot belong to anyone else. Yet.
Tomorrow, I can breathe again. I will survive today. Maybe not graciously. But I will.
Today, I am working very hard on concentrating on the good.
The many smiles. The sweet humanity in our home.
The happy face of Auggie that greets me in pictures on the wall.
But the hate is still in my head today. An ever-permeating cloud...I am working on it.
So today, I am searching. Because I DO know that there is still goodness and beauty.
There is still light...even in this day's darkness, Auggie's light still bounces around our house with regularity. It is within our precious memories, the laughter we find so freely, the tears we cry in happiness and pain.
Sweet moms that live this life.
The life that is unreal and insanely unfair.
I see you.
Even worse, I feel you.
I don't want to, just like you don't want to.
But I do.
There is light. Even if it is hard to find. Or feel. It is there.
Sometimes in the fleeting smile. In the small, cool breeze.
In the loved, but unwelcome reminder that we are one less.
And always will be.
It is in the tiny things that we can locate some comfort.
And I love it. And I hate it.
And I am not sure that will ever change.