2018, Feb 19 - Sorrow

I got up this morning for the girls.  I did not fee them breakfast, but when did I ever?  They're old enough now to prepare their own bowls of cereal.  I was good until they went out the door for school.  Then I fell apart.  I shuffled around the house, holding your camo shirt, touching your box of ashes and crying.  Cried in the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom, the bedroom.  Everywhere.  I held that one shirt like it was the last one.  At some point I actually did something productive, like press the power button on the washing machine.  Otherwise, I laid in the bed among your laundry, holding your shirt, and crying.  A couple of times I dozed off and dreamed weird stuff.  Dreamt about Dr. Kleinpeter and parrots of all things.  I really wanted to dream about you.  I stayed in bed all day, hoping to dream about you. 

Finally, the girls arrived home and we had something to do.  They went out the door and left me here for a minute.  I turned to face your box and tell you "This is so hard!".  Then I turned to go.  I had to get the girls to choir practice.

I drove, they slept.  We got there 20 minutes early.  I let them sleep a little longer.  Finally, I woke them up and sent them inside.  Then, I went to get something to eat.  I took myself over to Papi's Fajita Factory.  I sat in a booth by myself and order a combination fajita plate called the El Jefe.  From parking lot until after dinner, I fought a panic attack.  I do not like eating out alone anymore.  I used to be fine but now I miss you so badly. 

Afterwards, I went down the road to the library to talk to your newly discovered distant cousin.  I told her you were gone.  We talked a bit and then I had to go get the girls.  I forgot to get them burgers like I usually do. I got them in the truck and then went to Samantha's because she was bugging me to stop for a few minutes.  It put me behind schedule.

I still had to stop and get them something to eat.  We forgot to get the drinks we ordered and had to turn around to get them. I just knew I would be getting text messages from you to remind me they were late and it was a school night.  The texts never came. 

We got home to a dark house.  You usually would be sitting in your chair watching TV or the news.  It was too quiet tonight.  I might leave the TV on next week.  The girls got their teeth brushed and they went to bed.  Now, I'm watching the news and typing to you.  I miss you.  I love you.